


The Space Between (your heart & mine)

by dirty_holy_things



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Balance in the Force (Star Wars), Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Emotional Sex, Emotionally Constipated Din Djarin, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Force-Sensitive Reader, Good Parent Din Djarin, Horny Din Djarin, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Oral Sex, POV Din Djarin, POV Original Character, Past Abuse, Protective Din Djarin, Reader-Insert, Romantic Angst, Rough Sex, Self-Insert, Slow Burn, Soft Din Djarin, Touch-Starved Din Djarin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:16:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 80,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28602810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirty_holy_things/pseuds/dirty_holy_things
Summary: The galaxy had dealt you a rough hand of sabacc in this life. A family who couldn’t comprehend or understand your connection to the Force; a wolf in sheep’s clothing, who used and abused you for your talents; and you had come to understand that the galaxy cared very little for its inhabitants.But an unexpected visit from a Mandalorian offered you the chance to leave it all behind, to reclaim your place as the author of your story.***You stepped towards the Mandalorian, being conscious to set down the knife before getting closer. “You need a body.”A grunt came from the vocal modulator. “It’s not my body.”You shuddered at the implication. “You need a body,” you stated slowly, enunciating every syllable. “You need a body, and now I need a way off of this planet.”The man stayed nerve-wrackingly silent for minutes, studying the scene before him. “You would be willing to exchange the body, for travel?”“And a portion of the bounty, seeing as how - how I killed him.” Your voice wavered.“How quickly can you leave?”
Relationships: Din Djarin & Reader, Din Djarin & You, Din Djarin/Original Character(s), Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s), Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Comments: 107
Kudos: 325





	1. Chapter 1

_“In a blaze of fear I put a helmet on a helmet, counting seconds through the night and got carried away ... I didn’t know I was lonely, till I saw your face. I didn’t know I was broke, until I wanted to change. I wanna get better.” - Bleachers, I Wanna Get Better_

The first thing that he noticed as he stepped off of the Razor Crest was the humidity. Despite the layers of clothing and beskar, and the filtration of his helmet, he immediately felt the moisture in the air cling to him. It felt suffocatingly dense, the salty air of Chandrila infiltrating his armor and pressing itself against his skin like a desperate lover. It was uncomfortable, bordering on nauseating, and Din found himself already wishing to be rid of this planet. At best, it was a fun vacation spot for the powerful and wealthy; and at worst, it threatened to rust even the purest of beskar. Pressing a button on his vambrace, the kid’s cradle closed and hovered towards his side as he stepped off the ship, the cradle following along next to him smoothly as they journeyed further into the coastal region of this planet. He hoped to keep this journey brief and uncomplicated.

The bounty had brought him here to this planet, but at the moment, the faint red glow of the beacon was far from his mind; during the last exchange with Karga and the guild, the kid had wandered off in search of a meal, and had eaten... something. He was not sure what the kid had gotten into this time, but the small creature became shockingly ill and Din did not know what else to do after the kid’s green skin had turned a disturbing shade of grey. While the bounty had brought him to the planet, the kid had brought him to the city, in hopes of finding a medic. For having only cared for the kid for a few months, he had grown incredibly, concerningly, attached to him, and he was willing to risk a delay on the job to make sure that the kid was properly cared for. He was an adorable, squat green creature with large orblike eyes that felt as though they could see through anything; and even the resilient and lonely Din Djarin had not been invincible to the kid’s charms. 

Din breathed in deeply, faintly tasting the salt in the air that the filtration system had let pass, and approached the man who appeared to be managing the docking bay that he had landed in. It was a small town, but the tracking fob had indicated a promising lead here in this quaint little place, so he had decided to test his luck here. The manager was short and swarthy, and had a red and swollen face, appearing as though he spent too much time in the sun — or too much time at the bar; with that sort of redness, it was always hard to tell, although the slanted and slow walk of the man hinted at a preference for drink. The fat red man grinned at him slyly, running a swollen hand through a mop of greasy grey hair. “For a ship that size, it’ll be 100 credits a day.”

“Hmm.” Din had a gut feeling that this price was incredibly inflated, as the man had surely noticed the amount of priceless beskar that was strapped to his body.

The man shifted on his feet, appearing increasingly uncomfortable as he noticed the blaster held at Din’s side. Din _might_ have moved to rest his hand closely to it, but that was certainly all heresay. He would _never_ attempt to to intimidate a scheming and slimy businessman. With a sick child, Din certainly wouldn’t have time to play games; but a price of 100 credits per day was awful steep to receive little to no services in return.

“We’ll refuel her, and have a few cleaning droids - “ The man stuttered, trying to justify the price he had just proposed, knowing that he had pressed his luck and come out on the tail end of it.

“No droids.” The modulator droned. Din _hated_ droids, wanted nothing of their incompetence anywhere near his ship; the very ship that was the sole source of his employment and income, the reason for his extended survival amongst a floundering and ill-managed republic. Droids would inevitably fuck up the wiring and he would be left stranded in space to clean up their mess. He wanted nothing of their unconscious, mindless mess touching the _one_ thing that he relied on.

The man quaked in his boots. “S-sure, no droids. We’ll get her cleaned up nice and have her ready for you in...”

“Three days.”

The man attempted to crack a smile. “Inflation from the New Republic has hiked prices, but at least it’s a short stay.”

Din dropped a handful of credits into the man’s hand, disregarding the previous comment.The man’s commentary offered nothing of use to him, only serving as an apathetic bandaid to his price gouging. Din refocused on his next task of finding someone who could help the kid; Din had exhausted his own knowledge and knew that at this point, he was entirely out of his depth. “Where can I find a medic?” Din asked, the tone of the modulator conveying the severity of his tone. 

“Well, there’s not a lot of options in this corner of the galaxy,” the man deflected, but as Din fixed his anonymous and icy glare on him, the man changed his tune. Clearing his throat, he pointed east, towards the direction of a winding street composed of short, white buildings. “Go down that ways, about a quarter mile. Look for the shop with a blue roof. Ask to see the healer, and tell them that Merrell sent you.”

Din continued to stand still, fixing his gaze on the man identified as Merrell. “I asked for a medic.” He didn’t want some ancient, backwoods healer who would offer him a crystal and herbs, he needed legitimate science and medicine that would be able to bring the kid back to him.

“She’s better than any medic you’ll find here. Bit of an odd one, but she has... unusually good outcomes.” Merrell shifted nervously, waiting for any indication of a response from Din.

Din turned on his heel, headed in the direction that the man had indicated. He heard the man exhale deeply in relief, and then he began to bark orders in another language as a team of mechanics descended on the Razor Crest. Din checked to see that the cradle was continuing to follow him, and rested a gloved hand onto it gently. “I’ll take care of you, kid.”

He was not sure what this healer may have to offer, but it was a good a lead as any, and the healer just so happened to conveniently be located in the same town as his bounty. This bounty known as Orron Jakar was a cold and cruel man, and from the first time that Din had seen his blonde hair and icy eyes on the bounty puck, he knew that there was something unnervingly _evil_ about him. He had brought wreckage and violence into a small seaside town, and all in the name of what, spice? As he surveyed the picturesque town that extended before him, he understood how this small inlet town on Chandrila had drawn its share of visitors; the rolling hills offered a perfect backdrop for the sunny sky held above, the entire place having that feel of being beautiful year-round. It was certainly prettier than, say, Corellia; but Din didn’t care much for aesthetics so he was sure a lot of the town’s beauty was wasted on him.

The coastal town would have been described by most as charming; although the planet was largely settled, small areas such as this had sprung up, fueled by the fishing and hydroelectric industries that offered families the opportunities to build upon businesses and lives here. The buildings lining the hillside were white stucco, with gently sloping lines and multicolored roofs, linked together by cobblestone streets; and despite being what was otherwise an idyllic vacation town, there was still an underbelly of spice running and illegal trade going on behind the tapestries and stone. Places like this were beautiful on the surface, but with one peek behind its facade one could see that it was really no more extraordinary that anywhere else in the galaxy.

The uneven cobblestone streets caused pain to arc through Din’s heels and up into his calves as he journeyed though them; he grumbled lowly, not even loud enough for the modulator to pick it up, as the discomfort was something that was simultaneously intrusive and painful. The kid’s cradle followed along gently behind him, suspended over the rocky road and gliding along smoothly. Din was somewhat jealous of the kid’s smooth journey, but didn’t begrudge him for it since the was so clearly ill. He had been entirely at a loss for what to do when the kid had turned from green to grey, and had extended periods of sleep that were punctuated by bouts of exceptionally forceful vomiting. Din had tried to keep the kid hydrated and healthy, but as he approached the island that his bounty was rumored to be on, he understood that more assistance would be needed.

He kept a close eye out for any window that held the tapestry described to him as he wandered through the cobbled and disorganized streets; until finally, he came upon the described building. A bright blue roof shaded the white painted clay walls, and a tattered gold and teal tapestry was draped lazily across the wide window, indicating that Din and his companion had arrived at their destination. Din ducked to step under the short door frame, and found himself inside a herbalist’s shop, lined floor to ceiling with a variety of plants, stones, and what appeared to be bits of formerly living creatures. He didn’t feel particularly confident based on his first impression, and if this turned into a colossal waste of Din’s time, he would pay Merrell another less-than-kind visit.

The spotless, glinting beskar was certainly out of place here; however, despite his intrusion, there was no indication that anyone else was present in the shop. The cradle hovered next to him, and shifted slightly as its cargo tossed and turned. He looked around for any indication of life, and heard a shuffling sound come from the back of the store. He hoped that whoever emerged would be able to offer some sort of assistance and be able to figure out... well, figure out whatever was wrong with the kid. Hoped that someone would be able to cure him.

A jade-colored beaded curtain was pulled to the side, and a young woman stepped forward; you appeared to be in your mid twenties, a slight crease around bright green eyes and a precocious smile on your lips. You cocked your head to the side, and Din felt your curious gaze land upon him. Despite the helmet that kept his face protected, he had an unnerving feeling that you saw right through him and were able to discern exactly where his brown eyes were located behind the layers of beskar and armor that forced his distance. In such a short time, how had he managed to find the two individuals in the galaxy that were somehow undeterred by his carefully-constructed anonymity?

“It’s not every day that we have a Mandalorian visit,” you said quietly, a smile teasing across your lips. “How can I be of assistance?”

Din felt something stir in his gut, and he shifted from one foot to the other, trying to dispel the feeling that was creeping up his spine. He had limited contact with women in his life, and most of these contacts had only really been in a professional manner; he had never felt particularly interested in any other sort of relationship, but you were intriguing, you piqued his curiosity. He had visited pleasure houses before, but it felt... clinical, functional, it was just about getting the job done; and truthfully, he couldn’t recall the faces of the women he had met there. Din had grown somewhat desensitized to the myriad of faces that he encountered on his travels; old, young, male, female, human or otherwise, very few caught his eye and held his attention for more than a moment. But your face held a gentleness and sense of innocence that was exceptionally rare to see in his line of work; and as it was such a precious resource, a rare sight, he wanted more of it.

Din allowed himself a moment to appreciate the sight of you. You were an exceptionally beautiful woman, your beauty accentuated by the gentleness of your voice; and the masculine part of him couldn’t help but notice the way that your breasts pressed against the restrictiveness of your clothing, and notice how your utilitarian and unremarkable clothing clung to the curves of your body despite its concealing intentions. You had long hair that spilled about you wildly, looking perfectly mussed and out of place, but it looked incredibly soft and shone when the light from the windows landed on it. _Din wondered what it would be like to run his bare hands through it._

Trying to return his focus to the matter at hand, the matter of his sick child, he cleared his throat and tried to speak clearly and confidently. “I was told by Merrell that you could... help me. I am in need of a healer.” He was hopeful that the drunk man had pointed him in a genuinely helpful direction.

Din observed your posture straighten considerably at the mention of his need of a healer. Din could feel your eyes roaming over him, and then saw you glance towards the cradle that was floating along behind him, making a reasonable assumption about the circumstances that had led him here. “Are you needing a healer, or is it you companion?” You asked, stepping forward to breach the gap between your respective bodies.

Din shifted slightly, the beskar adjusting to his change in posture. _Could he really trust you_? He thought of the journey to this planet, plagued by episodes of feverish behavior and vomiting from the kid - _trust or no trust, he needed someone who could help, and he would not get to be picky about the help that was offered_. He was desperate to find someone who could help him, who could help the kid, as he had come to his wits end after his last piece of underclothing had been soaked in sweat and episodic vomit from the kid. He knew that the kid couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop it, and Din felt even more helpless as he understood that there was very little he could do to alleviate the kid’s suffering. Din was very rarely rendered helpless or ineffective, and the feeling didn’t sit well with him.

“It’s not me. It’s.... the kid.” Din admitted, stepping aside to allow you further access to the hovering cradle. He was nervous about how you might respond to his companion, either out of fear or pervasive curiosity. He had seen quite the spectrum of reactions to the kid during their shared travels.

You cocked a well groomed eyebrow as Din gestured towards the hovering cradle. You waited for him to elaborate, to explain what had brought this duo to your store and what they were needing from you.

“We were on Nevarro when he ran off, and ate... _something_.” Din’s voice stressed the unknown nature of the child’s snacks. He had felt incredibly guilty when the kid had taken off and eaten something that made him violently ill; at first, he had been upset about the smelly mess that had taken over his ship, but as the situation grew more dire, he became more desperate to try and figure out how to rectify the situation.

You nodded softly in understanding, and took a step closer towards the cradle. Tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear, you crouched down so you was at eye level with it. “May I?” You hesitated before making any further movements or gestures, and a piece of Din appreciated the fact that you waited for consent before moving forward to connect with the kid.

Din wordlessly pushed the button on the side of the cradle, revealing the sleeping child. His brown robes were askew and damp with sweat, and his grey pallor had worsened. Din felt his heart start to pound harder at the sight, and hoped that he wasn’t suffering _. If only he had kept a better eye on him_... But his sense of guilt would not do them any favors now, it would only complicate the matters of recovery. His heart was aching for the kid, but he was still able to force him to trust in your recommended abilities. Truly, what other option did he have at this point?

“Does he have a name?” You asked quietly, resting your hands on the edge of the cradle. There was a curious look on your face, almost as though a smile was hiding in the corners of your peachy lips.

“Grogu.” Din grunted. Names were significant, something challenging to share, and he hoped that he had made the correct choice in trusting you with the kid’s true name. They had traveled together for quite a while before he and his companion had exchanged names.

You nodded, and turned your attention back to the child. You whispered an introduction to him, and gently placed your hand on the side of his feverish face. “I won’t hurt you, Grogu. I am going to pick you up, and take you to a more comfortable room.” It was unlikely that the kid heard you, as he appeared to be sleeping, but the kindness with which you explained all of your actions had caught Din by surprise.

Cradling the sickly child, you turned back to Din. “If you would follow me, I’d like to take him back to a more private room.” You waited for Din to nod in approval, before winding your way through the cluttered shelves and potted plants. Stepping through the beaded curtain, Din watched you place the kid onto a cushioned cot, and Grogu began to stir as he got more comfortable with his new accommodations. You sat down on the floor next to the cot and whispered something quietly, before placing one hand on the kid’s large forehead, and another on his small, shallowly breathing chest. Your fingertips pressed gently into his skin and your eyes fluttered closed.

You stayed quiet for a minute, eyes closed in increasing concentration. Din took the time to examine the surroundings; in addition to the cot, there were shelves lined with bandages, bacta syringes, and vials of medical compounds. It was a welcome sight after being greeted by the plants and pottery; this room looked like it belonged to someone with an understanding of real medicine, but could still hold a holistic perspective. Aside from the cot and the medical supplies the room was relatively bare, with no decorations to speak of, but a small window provided a nice view of the hillside — it was peaceful here, and Din assumed that was an intentional design. People very rarely sought out medical treatment when things were going _right,_ so anything that could potentially alleviate distress would be appreciated.

“He ingested something poisonous,” you finally spoke, leaning back and away from the kid. “His body was able to fight it off, but the poison caused a... change. His body has turned the attack in on itself.”

Din hoped that you would elaborate - _about anything_ \- how you determined that, if you could help him - but you did not offer any further information, leaving Din to initiate. “What can be done?”

You rose from the floor and grabbed two glass jars from the shelf under the window, and set them on the cot next to the child. “These will help with the symptoms, and help rebuild his strength.”

“Will this... cure him?” He asked, hoping that the modulator would not betray the nervousness that his voice held.

“No,” you said softly, “but I can. And when he wakes back up, you will want to give him these, to make the recovery easier.” Din still did not understand what you were doing, but desperation had overtaken the questioning. You sank back down onto the floor, resting at eye level with the cot and the child. You resumed the same position from before, with hands placed gently on Grogu. Din was not sure what you were doing, but he felt a growing sense of energy and power within the room - it continued to expand, almost coming to a hum, the corners of his vision blurred -

And then, your head drooped down onto the cot, a sigh escaping from your body. The hum had disappeared, and had Din not watched the entire process, he would have doubted that anything had even happened. _He did actually somewhat doubt that anything had happened._

But then the kid’s eyes opened, and Din saw that his skin had turned back to a light shade of green; breathing a sigh of relief, he stepped towards the cot. The kid pushed himself up from the cot with his stubby little arms and cooed upon seeing Din approach him. “I told you, I’d take care of you. Can’t believe you would’ve doubted me.”

The kid giggled, a burbling sound that Din welcomed, after such a long period of silence. Your head had not yet risen up from the cot, but you were breathing deeply, your body hunched over the cot. Grogu reached out and placed his little green fingers onto the top of your head and you stirred, sitting back up but swaying a bit in the process. “Hello, Grogu,” you smiled, reaching out to hold his small hand in yours. “It is nice to meet you.”

The kid grinned, showing his tiny little teeth. You laughed at the small noises he made. “I’m sure you are hungry, but you’ll need to be more careful next time about what you eat.”

“Can you understand him?” Din asked curiously. He had only met one other person who could. _A Jedi, who was able to use the Force to communicate with Grogu._

“Grogu is a very special child,” you said slowly, as though you was not sure what to say. “We share some... abilities, and I am able to understand his thoughts.” You couldn’t see, but Din’s eyes widened in response behind the helmet.

“I’ve only known one other person who could understand him. She was a Jedi.”

You laughed breathlessly. You attempted to stand up, but your legs buckled - and without thinking, Din reached out to grab you and prevent a fall. His gloved hands wrapped around yours, and he could somehow feel the warmth of your skin through the leather. Wrapping an arm around the small of your back, he guided you up and into an upright position on the cot, and felt a soft glow radiate between you that was abruptly ripped away when he released you. _Something inside him resented the loss of contact_. He studied your face, trying to assess if you were alright - but he was distracted by the sudden closeness. He very rarely had any physical contact — occasionally he would carry the kid around, or have to haul a body back to the ship, but this was unnervingly and excitingly different. “Are you alright?”

You smiled at him, your head resting back against the white wall. “I will be. Your friend took more work than I expected.” Grogu climbed into your lap and settled against you, his head drooping to the side with a sigh; he looked significantly better, but was not yet back to his mischief-making self. “I am not a Jedi by any stretch, but since I was young, I have had some useful talents. Most notably, a talent for healing.”

_The kid was able to use the Force to heal, too. What other things could you have in common with him_? Din wondered.

Grogu began to gently snore on your lap. “I can’t work miracles, but I can usually work with simple illnesses or injuries. Merrell, the man who sent you to me, is a frequent visitor; he was just here three days ago, after he drunkenly fell down a flight of stairs.” You laughed softly at the memory. “He pays well though, so I don’t mind.”

_Ah, payment._ Din was not sure what something like this would cost him - he hadn’t even stopped to think about that, he was just desperate. The combination of magic and medicine was likely to leave him with a hefty fee, but there was no taking it back now; and truthfully he would’ve paid whatever price to bring the kid back to him. “What do I owe you?”

You waved your hand, dismissing his question. “You’re a bounty hunter. I’m sure you’re here after someone dangerous. Consider this a preemptive thank you for keeping us safe.” You shifted on the cot, cradling the kid in your arm as you stood up. Din’s hand shot out automatically to offer you support and balance, and you grabbed onto his forearm and brought yourself up. You gently slid the kid back into his arms, the peaceful transfer not disturbing his sleep. Still holding onto his arm, your hips turned towards his, he swallowed thickly and tried to ignore the floral smell that had surrounded him. You smiled at the kid, his ears tucked between the beskar and the crook of Din’s elbow, and then smiled softly up at him.

He felt his pulse quicken at the sight of your pink lips - _surely very soft lips_ \- exposing a crooked tooth and a wide grin. He could see the faintest of peach fuzz on your face, and Din wanted to reach out and feel the softness of skin against skin. He felt as though he was frozen in this moment — _no, frozen was not the right word —_ he felt as though the three of you were wrapped in a warm glow, and he didn’t want to move away from it.

The kid repositioned himself within Din’s arms, and this snapped him out of the trance; he stepped away from you, albeit regretfully, as that was the closest he had ever come to feeling what could only be described as magic. He turned to place the kid back in the cradle, and give himself a moment to regain his composure. The cradle closed softly and he turned back to you to thank you, but you were already moving back towards the front of the shop. He followed along, grabbing the medicine that you had instructed him to give to the kid.

“Thank you.” He said quietly, the modulator hiding the genuine appreciation that he had for this strange and intriguing woman. He had so many questions that he wanted to ask you, wanted to understand who you were, but your business was done. It was time to carry on.

You nodded at him and at the cradle. “Keep an eye out for him. I’ll have to charge you next time.”

Din laughed abruptly, the sound foreign to his own ears. How long had it been? He left the shop, trying to recall the last time he had laughed. He wasn’t sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic has been a quiet project of mine for several months now. It started out as a self-indulgent self-insert, and evolved into something with structure and a storyline; and I felt compelled to see it through, even more so with the support and encouragement of my lovely friends Ashley and Di, who have beta’d this fic. 
> 
> Having written a fair amount of this story out, I will share a few things: this story will frequently reference and occasionally describe domestic violence and abuse, as it is a piece of the OC / Reader's backstory. Trauma has a heavy influence on the Reader’s development. I will make the explicit pieces distinct with each chapter, and you don’t have to read these portions to comprehend the story; if a chapter needs more specific warnings, I'll add those in notes. 
> 
> This story will also be canon-divergent; I have tried to reference canon and keep it as accurate as possible, but I am no expert! I will add links to references for more specific topics that come up in the chapters. 
> 
> The current chapter projection of 30 is subject to change, but I can guarantee that we will have a happy ending! For all of the angst, I’m about as soft as a marshmallow. 
> 
> You can reach out to me on tumblr at dirty-holy-things for comments, feedback, or anything else.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will be taking place from the Reader's POV. There will be scenes that describe physical abuse and domestic violence. These sections of the chapter will be denoted by *** at the beginning and end of each section, and can be skipped over without losing the story. Please, please, exercise caution if this is a topic that is sensitive for you.

_“I didn’t know what hate felt like, not the hate that comes after love. It’s huge and desperate and it longs to be proved wrong. And every day it’s proved right, it grows a little more monstrous. If the love was passion, the hate will be obsession. A need to see the once-loved weak and cowed beneath pity. Disgust is close and dignity is far away. The hate is not only for the once loved, it’s for yourself too; how could you ever have loved this? - Jeanette Winterson, The Passion_

You watched the suit of beskar carry the curious man and the durasteel cradle out of your shop. It was certainly an interesting way to begin your day, and while you did not regret your choices, you had worn yourself out early in the day with a long list of tasks that still needed to be completed. Just a moment to rest, you bargained with yourself. Five minutes at most, and then you’d go to the shop next door to have a cup of caf that would surely perk you back up. There were so many things that needed to be done; you needed to tend to the plants, update the shop’s books to reflect the new shipment of medical supplies, and… some carefully-concealed contraband. But your legs felt as though they would give way underneath you, after the internal upheaval of healing and feeling a strange man’s strong arms hold you closely against him.

Your eyes closed as you slid down the wall unceremoniously, your butt hitting the cobblestones and sending a sharp pain up your back. You supposed you could have laid on the cot in the back room, but you also knew the things that cot had witnessed, and you didn’t particularly want to spend any good deal of time on it. You winced at the pain that arced through your back and shoulders, and laid your head on your knees, hair tumbling down around you; you could feel the need to sleep tugging at the corners of your mind, and you finally gave in after having fought it long enough to say goodbye to the travelers.

You woke to the sound of a jar crashing onto the floor and shattering. Jerking upright, you saw that the damn cat had gone on a rampage, likely in protest of his lunch being late. Fear coursed through your veins as you rushed to assess the damage and clean up the mess. Orron would be furious to see this, would threaten to throw the cat back out onto the streets - throw you out on the street - and you cursed quietly as you saw that a rack of bacta syringes had been knocked down and two had shattered irreparably.

This was going to be bad.

You hastily cleaned up the mess and hid the evidence of the accident; the cat curled in and around your ankles, meowing at you, asking for lunch and forgiveness. You chastised him gently and scooped food into his bowl, knowing that he couldn’t understand the severity of his actions. With a sigh, you assessed that the mess was well enough concealed that you could step out for a moment. Your body was stiff and sore from having fallen asleep in such a convoluted position, and you tried your best to wriggle and stretch the pain away as you walked.

It was lucky that there was a cafe just next door, and even luckier that the sweet older woman who worked there had taken a liking to you. You had very few friends in this town, despite having been here for almost ten years; really, Aumiyat was the only person that you could call a friend as the others were better categorized as business associates. Aumiyat smiled and clapped her hands together upon seeing you enter her spotless but cluttered shop. “Hello my little dove! How are you today? Did you see that Mandalorian walking around?”

You sat down across the counter from her, immediately feeling more relaxed at the kindness she showed you. “He paid me a visit earlier,” you shared, not sure how much information would be appropriate to give; the man hadn’t offered much information to begin with, but you had a feeling that the story you shared with him should remain private. “He was in need of help, Merrell sent him to me.”

Aumiyat laughed. “You should pay that man commission for the number of people he sends your way.”

“Send four, get a visit free,” you joked back, a smile working its way to your lips. “Can I have a cup?” You gestured towards the pitcher of caf behind her. She always managed to make it perfectly, never bitter or contaminated with grounds that would linger at the bottom and make for an unfortunate ending to the cup.

Her eyes were bright and she smiled at you, pushing the pitcher and a cup across the counter to you. She also slid a muffin your way, likely noticing the lack of color in your usually rosy cheeks. You were still drained from healing, and grappling with the dread of facing Orron at the end of the day. The mess that the cat had caused was going to cause you quite a lot of pain, and while you were somewhat glad you had the time to brace yourself for it, you also knew that you would end up spending the rest of the day counting down the seconds until the inevitable barrage of anger crashed into you.

You tried to push the thoughts from your mind and focus on enjoying the cup of caf in front of you; you concentrated on how the rough, hand-thrown pottery felt in your hands. You ate in relative silence while Aumiyat bustled around, cleaning the caf machine and straightening the well-worn cups and cloth napkins. You desperately wanted to tell her about the accident, and about how scared you were to face Orron, but you also didn’t want to worry her unnecessarily. There was not much that she could do to help or protect you, and you didn’t want to add any guilt to her hunched shoulders. You remembered how she had cried as she held you, after finally opening your mouth and letting all of the horrible things come out; you had barely shed a tear, but she cried enough for the both of you, and you appreciated that. She had offered to help in any way she could, but you knew that if she helped you, or stood up to Orron, it would only lead to her enduring pain too. If you had to deal with the brunt of his anger and violence, you would deal with it on your own; you certainly wouldn’t choose to share that with anyone else.

“Thank you, Aumiyat,” you sighed, finally feeling full and a bit more revived after the caffeine had a chance to course through your system. You stepped around the counter to hug her tightly, and you were grateful that this woman had chosen to take care of you these past few years; she was the closest thing you had to a mother, and probably the only true friend you had here. She hugged you back, her bony but surprisingly strong arms crushing you into her. “Come see me tomorrow, I should be getting a shipment of some interesting new teas.” You wheezed.

She nodded and released you from her grasp. She patted your shoulder and kissed your forehead, before turning her attention back to the kettle that had begun to steam. The gentle, parental gestures filled your heart in a way that you desperately needed. Leaving her shop, you strolled back into the street, taking a moment to enjoy the sunshine, feeling it warm your skin considerably and recharge your soul. It was a beautiful little town, and you still loved it, despite the circumstances that had brought you here.

Ever since you were young, you had a certain amount of power and intrigue that drew attention - both good and bad. You were able to do certain things that no other children could. Your parents didn’t know what to make of it, but having heard whispered stories about Jedi and their magic, they were scared nonetheless. They begged for you to conceal it, but as a young child you had no idea how to even begin to hide the abilities you couldn’t yet control. Cups would go sailing across the room, bullies found themselves inexplicably muted,you could communicate with travelers of any language, despite having never heard it before. Their last straw was when one afternoon when you were a young adult, you healed your own broken ankle, in front of a school full of people. You remembered how everyone had screamed in terror and run away from you, but all you wanted to do was rejoin the game. You didn’t understand that you had done anything wrong, but the insults they hurled at you still carried bruises today.

Gradually, you began to withdraw from the world around you. You would find yourself wandering in the forests of your home planet, often disappearing for days without realizing it, just thankful to be somewhere quiet where nobody was trying to hurt you. Nobody ever came looking for you; truthfully, they were relieved to be rid of the magic. When someone finally did come looking, it was not out of the goodness of their heart; but you wouldn’t realize this until much later. The one who had positioned himself to be your knight in shining armor, was more of a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Orron Jakar was a tall, powerfully built, classically handsome man; his eyes were blue and cold as ice, and his blonde hair was always kept in a tight, militaristic crop. He had come across you meditating in the woods; having heard from townspeople that there was a Force-sensitive girl out here, he had come looking for an asset. That’s not what he had told you at the time, but you soon came to understand the ulterior motives at play. Of course, in the beginning it was wonderful — he played up his role as your hero, your rescuer, the one who saved you from a village of small-minded nobodies - he romanced you, made you love him, and become entirely dependent on him. So, when he insisted you assist him in a business dealing on this new planet, you were eager to comply. He was offering to take you away from a world full of pain and rejection, to a new place that offered opportunities for acceptance; you couldn’t fault your younger self for being lured in on this premise.

The proposed business dealing had been easy enough in theory; you would keep up the storefront of the shop, maintain a medic’s role, while Orron funneled spice through the tourist town. It was also convenient that you were a skilled healer, as you were frequently greeted by mangled bodies that had been deposited on your cot in the back room. Sometimes they were Orron’s men, faces that you recognized, who had been roughed up by other spice runners; and other times, they were criminals who Orron wanted conscious enough to interrogate before finally killing them. Orron expected you to heal them without failure, and with each soul that passed away on that cot, you felt as though a piece of yours went with them.

As the blood and drugs continued to flow across the cobbled floors of the place you had wanted to call home, your relationship with Orron continued to become more violent as well.

***

The first time wasn’t so bad. Orron had brought someone back to be healed prior to interrogation, however they were too far gone by the time you laid hands on them. You fought to close the gaping wound in the scaly blue chest below you, but you weren’t able to bring him back. He died on your cot, shivering, while you stood over him crying and desperately pouring every ounce of energy into him. You knew it wouldn’t make much of a difference in the long run, since Orron would kill him anyway, but the guy was crying out for his mom while you were elbows deep in his bloody chest cavity — and this hadn’t even been the first death this week, you were still working to get out the stains from the last one.

And when this individual died, Orron rolled his eyes at you and hauled you up to your feet, dragging you out of the room and dropping your shaking form onto the hard stone floor. “Useless,” he muttered. He paced in circles, finally swinging a muscled arm out and connecting with a row of potted plants, smashing them onto the floor while pottery flew everywhere. _You had made those pots with Aumiyat. She had taught you how to care for the plants that lived within them._ Seeing the mess of blood and potting soil, Orron hauled you up by your neck and slapped you across the face, calling you a useless bitch. “Should’ve left you in the woods to die on that backwater planet.”

He disappeared into the room where the body was, and you crawled across the floor and to the fresher; after your failed attempt at healing, you had little to no strength left and your legs felt like lead. You felt the edges of each stone cutting into you and dragging against your skin that felt as though it was thin as paper. Pulling yourself up to drape over the sink, you saw a glowing red handprint radiating across your face, and the blood vessels in your right eye had burst - you looked an absolute mess. Shaking, you washed the blood off of yourself and splashed water on your face, the cool water feeling harsh against your raw skin. You stared in the mirror at your reflection - _how pathetic,_ you thought. _You couldn’t save anyone, you couldn’t save yourself._ You cried desperately, your chest heaving as you fought for breath. Eventually, your cries slowed down and you collapsed against the wall of the fresher, sleep claiming you.

When you woke up hours later, there was an eerie silence permeating the room that you had locked yourself in. You weren’t sure where Orron was, or what had happened to the body that had bled all over the room, and honestly you were terrified to find out. Catching a glimpse of your swollen face in the mirror, you winced at the sight. Gods, if you walked out and about like that, someone was bound to see, to ask questions —

Steeling yourself, you touched the tips of your finger to your swollen and bruised eye. Inhaling deeply, you channeled that inner strength that had failed you last night, willing it to hide the evidence of Orron’s anger, of _your_ failure —

And the bruise slowly disappeared. The swelling went down. The ruptured blood vessels constricted, and slowly, your face began to look like your face again. You hated this partially healed image of yourself even more than the face you had seen in the mirror the night before.

And this would not be the last time that you healed yourself in the privacy of the fresher. Orron apologized profusely upon seeing you the following morning, bringing you gifts and showering you with affection, but the cycle would repeat — _always repeat_ — he would become upset about your healing, a broken glass, anything, and you would always find yourself on the floor of the fresher, healing bruises, cuts, hiding any mark of violence against you. But for every physical mark that you hid, its pain never really disappeared. It sank just beneath the skin, the bruise fading but the pain lingering.

Heavy footsteps snapped you out of your reverie, and you braced yourself for the inevitable storm that would follow Orron into the room.

***

“Clean yourself up, you look pathetic.” He spit at you, straightening his jacket. “We have a party to go to this evening. Try to look presentable.”

Your head was pounding and the floor was spinning. You could taste blood on your tongue, metallic and thick, and based on the lingering pressure on your throat, you were certain you would find bruises there. You heard his heavy steps gradually fade away, and you hauled yourself up to lean against the shelving, knowing you would have to start the journey up the stairs and into your quarters above the shop. It was a slow and aching journey as your battered body fought against every step, wanting nothing more than to curl inwards and retreat from it all. But you had a party to go to — _how fucking hilarious, a party, as if there was anything to celebrate_ — and the anger that would follow an unexpected absence would certainly be worse than what you were already enduring. So up the stairs you went, past the small bed that called your name, and into the fresher so you could make yourself _presentable._ As if he wasn’t the one who had turned you into this anyway.

You mechanically went through the motions of healing your wounds, trying not to think about the fire that was burning in your throat. _How convenient that Orron found himself a self-healing punching bag,_ you thought darkly. You watched the bruises sink back into your skin, the redness neutralize.

You did your best to get pulled together, putting on a black dress that Orron had complimented before. You passed over the heeled shoes that he had once called slutty, and chose a less offensive pair. Giving yourself a once-over, you assessed that you were decent enough that you wouldn’t embarrass him. Thinking about the bruises you had covered just minutes before, you impulsively grabbed the knife that you kept next to your bed, and strapped it to the inside of your thigh. You remembered the way that his hands had constricted around your throat, cutting off your air, before finally releasing right as your vision went black at the edges. There was a sense of fear and trepidation coiling in your gut, as this was the closest he had ever come to actually _killing_ you. His pattern of abuse had only been escalating, and there was a piece of you that understood that the next attack very well could be the last; and deciding to trust your gut, you kept the knife strapped to you. _It’s not like you would actually use it_ , you told yourself, but it made you feel safer nonetheless. You were going to a lounge that would be filled with spice runners, cartel members, and slave traders; _surely it would be unreasonable to go in totally unprotected, right?_ That’s the story you settled on with yourself. You didn’t want to acknowledge the primal part of your body that told you to fight back against Orron, to choose your own survival over his.

Just as you were about to leave your quarters, Orron showed up at your door with flowers and a glass of wine, offering his arm out to you as an escort _._

_You were no longer in love with him, but each day you continued to play the role until you were able to find your own alternate ending to the storyline._

You smiled at him and stood on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, before you began your journey towards the upscale lounge where the party was waiting. He smelled like aftershave and gunmetal. A glint of silver in the distance caught your eye momentarily, until you were whisked away and into the pulsating mass of bodies held within the lounge.

The colors and lights were disorienting as you were still exhausted from the earlier battering and resulting healing. You held onto Orron tighter, trying to give your mind and body the chance to acclimate. “Would you like a drink?” You asked Orron, touching his arm lightly; you knew that upon arrival at an event he liked to drink whiskey as it made him appear more masculine and intimating to others. He nodded and passed you some credits, enough for the both of you. He kissed your forehead absently before being drawn into the crowd by another business associate, and you busied yourself with finding the bar.

You knew that he would want a whiskey, but a part of yourself was feeling bold and _resentful_ from the evening’s earlier events. You decided that a simple enough dig would suffice at giving you some measure of satisfaction, so you ordered something you knew he would loathe. After obtaining two of the glowing and flowery specialty cocktails, you took a large sip of yours and hoped that the alcohol would numb the churning feeling in the pit of your stomach. Orron waved you over to him, where he was seated at a private table — navigating your way through the crowd, you saw another flash of silver — but didn’t get to investigate as Orron was busy making introductions. _How odd that you kept seeing something; maybe Orron had done such damage that your brain wouldn’t recover past your surface-level healing._

You smiled gracefully as you arrived at the booth, and sat the drinks down on the table, extending your hand to the gentleman seated across from you to make an introduction. “What is this?” Orron hissed, holding the glass up to you.

You laughed nervously, smiling at the men surrounding you. “It’s the special for this evening, dear. It’s quite nice.”

He rolled his eyes and grabbed your wrist aggressively, twisting it just enough to make you wince. “Nice isn’t what I asked for.”

“Would you like for me to get you something else?” You demurred, trying to avoid making a scene. You knew he hated making a scene in front of those he considered important, but you were also testing him, trying to inflict even a modicum of what he had subjected you to.

“I’d like for you to listen the first time.”

You laughed and finished the remainder of your drink; and whether it was the alcohol making you bold, or something else, you might’ve _accidentally_ knocked the fluorescent orange drink over, spilling onto Orron’s white clothing. Seeing the rage and embarrassment burning on his face would have to be worth what would certainly follow. You almost regretted your actions; you didn’t now, but understood that you likely would later when you peeled yourself off of the floor.

“If you’d excuse us, please.” He grimaced, and pulled you up and away. Following along behind him, he dragged you off to a private room, no doubt to _chastise_ you for your behavior. He couldn’t slap you around too much here, since it was a private party and you’d have to come back out at some point — he would likely save the worst of it for home.

He shut the door quietly behind him, and his slow and measured pace was more unnerving than you expected. He prowled around the room, staring you down, before pouncing, hands immediately wrapping around you and crushing you —

***

He shoved you into the dark paneling of the wall, and pinned you against it before proceeding to strike your face and head repeatedly with his fist; after the third blow, the lights of the room blurred and swirled together, and you were unable to conceal the cries that you had tried to suppress, knowing that _he would only make it worse if you made a scene._ But your body was battered and exhausted, and you couldn’t fight off the fear and pain any longer. The sound of your desperate cry tore from your throat for only the shortest of moments, before Orron’s fist changed to an open palm that covered both your mouth and nose. As your lungs burned with their need for oxygen, you bit down with all of your might into the cold hand that was suffocating you. _The taste of blood in your mouth was not new to you._

Orron’s hand flew back from your mouth and slapped you across the cheek, this blow reigniting the pain of the last ones; and then you felt both of his hands around your throat, forcing you into the wall with the entire weight of his body pressing down on you.

_You knew what was going to happen here. He was going to kill you._

Your spirit had resigned itself to this fate, having predicted it earlier; but your body was not going to go down quite so easily. Something instinctual and primal took control of you, somehow being able to puppet your body despite the lack of oxygen your muscles received; and it was as if you were watching from outside your body when you saw the knife slide out from underneath your dress and bury itself to the hilt in Orron’s chest.

***

The hands around your throat released their grasp, and you greedily inhaled every bit of oxygen that had been denied to you just moments ago. Your head felt as though it was swimming, as you saw the fire behind Orron’s ice-blue eyes go dark; you turned away from the sight, wrenching your eyes shut, not wanting to watch the inevitable drop of his body.

_Body. Not a man anymore. A body. Dead body._

You leaned against the very same wall you had just been pinned to and tried to breathe deeply, tried to reorient yourself to this time and space and suppress the nauseous feeling in your stomach. You understood you would need to be in a better head space before trying to take in the aftermath of your actions, and process what the _fuck_ would happen next. You kept your eyes closed, but it offered no relief from the visual memory of what had just happened. 

As your mind and body started to return to a state of synchronicity and stability, you opened your eyes and realized that the body was not the only startling thing about this violent scene — there was also a suit of beskar present, its wearer watching you with trepidation from across the room. Taking in the sight around you, you saw what you knew to be Orron’s body slumped over onto the floor. You felt that fire in your throat again, the same one you had felt earlier today. Another familiar sensation was also present — _there was something warm and viscous on your hands_. Looking down, you saw your hands holding your knife that was soaked to the hilt in blood. _Was it yours?_ You didn’t feel pain anywhere below the neck, so you assumed it wasn’t yours. _Which - if it wasn’t yours, you knew it had to be Orron’s._

The man in beskar stood several feet away from you, guarded and waiting to see what would happen next. _You were just as curious and scared as he was._

“What… what did you see?” You rasped, your voice sounding ragged. You already knew what had happened — _you had killed someone —_ but you were resistant to accepting this awful truth.

The man was quiet for several moments before slowly moving towards you, crossing the floor which now bore a large red stain. “I was following you. Not you, specifically, but him,” he grunted, as he nudged the body with his boot.

_The body. Orron’s body._

“He brought you back here. He attacked you. You killed him.”

You shook your head, refusing to believe it.

_You had done it, you had watched it happen, you had felt the resistance of his body against the knife as it pushed through him — but you couldn’t, wouldn’t believe it._

Your whole body began to shake as though an earthquake moved through you. “No, n-no, that can’t be true —“

“It is.” He droned, taking a step towards you.

“Why were you following us?” You asked hoarsely.

He plucked a red flashing bounty puck from his side, and pressed a button on the side that displayed a photo of Orron. _Of course_ , you thought. _He was here for the spice ring._

You also saw the price listed above his head — _two hundred thousand credits_.A shiver ran down your spine. You kept your eyes locked straight forward onto the thin black visor in the man’s helmet, certain that the sight of Orron’s body would make you sick. Your mind, which had briefly been blanked by shock, started to race again.

_You had killed Orron Jakar. You had killed the leader of a drug cartel. You would not be safe here any longer, even though you never had truly been safe here anyway. You had to find a way to fix this, find the next best way to keep yourself alive._

You stepped towards the Mandalorian, being conscious to set down the knife before getting closer. “You need a body.”

A grunt came from the vocal modulator. “It’s not my body.”

You shuddered at the implication. “You need a body,” you stated slowly, enunciating every syllable. “You need a body, and now I need a way off of this planet.”

The man stayed nerve-wrackingly silent for minutes, studying the scene before him. “You would be willing to exchange the body, for travel?”

“And a portion of the bounty, seeing as how - how I killed him.” Your voice wavered.

“How quickly can you leave?”

You nearly cried tears of relief at those five simple words. _It was over, it was truly over, Orron was dead on the floor instead of you, and he couldn’t hurt you anymore._ You were going to leave this hauntingly beautiful planet that you had seen bathed in blood and drugs, and it didn’t really matter where you went at this point, but you were getting out.

_You had assumed that you would die here, but instead someone else did, and now your story got to go on. You got to have a different ending._

“I can get him out of here and buy you an hour or so.” The man offered, as you had gone silent.

You nodded, and wiped away the tears and snot on your face with the crook of your elbow. “Can - can you come get me at the shop when you’re done?”

He nodded wordlessly.

You turned on your heels immediately, carrying yourself out of the room and down the hallway, exiting into an alley behind the lounge. You inhaled deep lungfuls of cool evening air, and this time, in addition to tasting the salt in the air, you got a taste of something else —

_Freedom_.


	3. Chapter 3

_Slipping into the shower (where once, I hid as he pounded his fist against my door, a lion’s roaring heartbeat) I will whisper to myself, ‘I don’t have to lie to protect you anymore, and I don’t owe you my forgiveness.’ God, what a short life the bullet has compared to the wound. God, what I would give to leave the past behind and have it stay there. - Clementine Von Radics_

Your feet carried you back to the store faster than you even realized was possible. Your heart was racing and you could feel each desperate and grateful beat of it echoing throughout your body; _you were running away, you were leaving, you were alive_. Thankfully, the glow of the city lights only faintly illuminated the streets that you ran through, and the black dress that you had chosen earlier hid the streaks of blood that you had smeared there, trying to rid your hands of the evidence _. I guess this is what caught red-handed means,_ you thought bleakly. The Mandalorian had caught you red-handed, but in an odd twist of fate it somehow worked in your favor; rather than facing the wrath of Orron’s associates, or imprisonment, you had been offered something incredibly valuable — and now, all you had to do was reach out and take it.

The little shop was as quiet and peaceful as you had left it, and the cat was snoozing between two potted ferns. The gentle breeze of the evening winds rustled the tapestry that you had draped across the large bay window; it had been the first thing you had purchased here, loving the way that the teals and golds intertwined. The cat had been your second acquisition, however it was more truthful to say that he had chosen you. Feeling a sudden pain in your chest, you realized that leaving this place, meant leaving _this_ place. You would have to leave behind your plants, your cat, your beloved Aumiyat — but what would be the alternative? There wasn’t one. Someone would come looking for Orron. _And then they would come looking for you._

The kind stranger in the beskar was your best hope at leaving this planet alive. Taking a deep breath to brace yourself, you felt your resolve strengthen. You had made your choice, when you killed Orron; when you bargained with the bounty hunter; and now your choices demanded you follow through. You sprinted up the stairs at the back of the shop to your small quarters, and distinctly forced yourself to stop thinking of this as home; it had never been much of a home, but it was as close as you had ever had. Grabbing a canvas bag from beneath the bed, you hurriedly began gathering your essentials and stuffing them into the bag - clothing, soap, the credits you had hidden, a brush, and after a thought, you unceremoniously scooped all of the medical supplies you could fit into a sturdy metal case. The priceless bacta syringes and medicines would certainly come in handy some day, and it was better to bring them with you than leave them here to be ransacked.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you prepared to return to the shop, and realized that you were still an absolute mess. A mess, that would surely attract unwanted attention. Attention was the last thing you wanted, as you wanted to be able to slink away from this planet in the dead of night and vanish without a trace; someone seeing the blood streaked across your torn dress would certainly complicate your escape. Scrambling back to your closet, you sorted through the remaining clothes and grabbed a black long sleeved shirt, black utility pants, and a pair of sturdy work boots. You began to shimmy out of the stained dress when you heard footsteps echo through the store below you; half naked, you wrapped a sheet around your body and tiptoed down the first three stairs, craning your neck to see who the intruder was. _You had already fought off one attacker this evening, so fuck, what was one more?_

A silver helmet glinted in the low light and you breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m upstairs, give me just a moment —“ You dropped the sheet and hurriedly grabbed the clothing, pulling everything on as quickly as possible, before grabbing your belongings and running down the stairs. You didn’t spare the room a second glance, not wanting to make the leaving any harder.

The Mandalorian eyed you quietly for a moment, and you nervously waited for him to head in the direction of his ship. After a long pause, he stepped towards you, boots echoing heavily on the stone floor; he slowly lifted a gloved hand to your face, and you instinctively recoiled in fear — his hand lingered in midair, suspended between the two of you, having noticed how reacted to his gesture. “You’re bleeding. Someone may notice.” You thought you heard a hint of concern in his voice, but with the modulator, it was hard to tell.

Shaking off the moment of panic, reminding yourself that you were safe, your hand flew up to the side of your head where you felt a stinging gash. Your body had been running on such high levels of adrenaline that you hadn’t really even felt anything until his comment suddenly brought you screeching back into real-time. “Oh-okay, um, give me just a moment —“ The thought of healing yourself after all of the upheaval of the day was unnerving, but you hoped that the copious amounts of adrenaline would offer the fuel that was needed to close the wound.

You sat down on the floor and took a moment to check in with your physical self, and acknowledged the pain blooming across your face. You could sense the gash on your head, broken blood vessels in your eyes, and bruises that littered your neck. Determining that the bleeding wound was in need of the most immediate attention, you decided that you would try and heal that first. You held a hand up to your face and breathed through the pain that lanced across, feeling yourself breathe slowly and steadily like you had done so many times before. As you had hoped, the adrenaline provided the necessary resources to heal; your body still grew tired as it was coaxed into healing, but you felt confident that this would not lead to you passing out on the floor. You could feel the tissues starting to heal, and the swelling dissipated beneath your fingertips; finally, you could feel the wound had closed and you exhaled, feeling a wave of exhaustion and nausea hit you.

You laid your head down to rest on your knees and the Mandalorian shuffled from one foot to the other, a gloved hand coming down to rest on the blaster at his side. “Give me just a moment,” you breathed, hoping he would hear you. “It should pass in a minute.”

“Do you heal yourself often?”

You lifted your head up to gaze into his visor before nodding. You couldn’t gauge his response, the typical indicators being hidden behind the mask. You were typically quite good at reading people, but staring into the beskar it felt as though you were crashing into an impossibly dense and impenetrable wall.

“Did he do this to you often?”

You nodded again, surprised at the stranger’s additional questions; it was almost as if he _cared_ about you and what you had been through. You moved to stand up, propel your body off of the floor while leveraging the wall behind you, but before you were able to fully stand you felt yourself being lifted, a beskar-clad arm pressing into your lower back. He had let you go as quickly as he had picked you up, returning to a stock-still stance as he waited for you to leave. You grabbed your items and slung the bag over your shoulder, hoping that this would indicate to him that you did not want to elaborate further on your experiences with Orron; truly, you were strangers, and owed each other very little outside of this bounty dealing.

He seemed to take your cue, and turned on his heel to leave the shop. As you stepped outside, you heard a door slam, and then your field of vision was suddenly abstracted by the wiry form of Aumiyat crashing into you. She crushed you into a hug, her hands tangling in your hair, and she pulled you away from the Mandalorian. Cradling your face in her hands, her deep brown eyes gazed into yours. “Child, where are you going? Are you safe?” She eyed the man suspiciously.

Feeling a lump rise in your throat, you knew you would now have to say goodbye to the one person who had unconditionally cared for you. Hoping your voice didn’t shake too much, you hugged her back just as fiercely. “I’m safer now than I have been in a long while. Aumiyat, I’m leaving — Orron is —“ your throat closed up as you fought to tell her the truth. “Orron is dead.”

She knew from the look in your eyes and the injuries on your face what had happened. She pulled back from you and laughed, a tear falling down her cheek. “Oh my little bird, fly. Fly far and fly fast.” Happy tears continued to streak down the old woman’s cheeks, some vanishing into the deep seated lines on her face. She had spent years watching you be battered by a cruel and heartless man, and justice had won out today as you had finally put an end to his terror. She pulled you close for one more kiss on the forehead, and then gently pushed you back towards the Mandalorian. “Go on, get out of here.”

“Will you take care of the cat for me? And the plants?”

She smiled at you. “Of course, my little bird.”

“I’ll come back someday,” you promised, feeling the tears brimming in your eyes.

“Don’t you ever say that to me,” she reprimanded you. “Don’t you ever come back here, sweet girl.”

You nodded smiled sadly at her, and grasped her weathered, wrinkled hand one last time. The same hands that had comforted you, fed you, healed the parts of your soul that even your abilities couldn’t reach. She used her other hand to wipe away the tears that had slid down your cheek, and then shoo’ed you off before turning her back to you and retreating into her home. She was gone, and you were unsure if you would ever see her again, but you were immeasurably grateful that your wretched life had still managed to bring someone so wonderful to you. Coughing, you tried to dislodge the aching feeling in your throat, but it was to no avail. Silent tears continued to flow as you stepped forward into the night, having said your goodbyes.

Thankfully, your companion seemed to be comfortable in the silence that grew as you followed his path through the village. You said a quiet, internal goodbye to the shops that you had frequented, the markets, and the cafes. Coming to the docking bay, you saw that it was empty of the usual mechanics and droids that kept it bustling and full of loud clanging noises; you followed the man’s path to the ramp of the ship that was waiting, and thought about taking one last look at the town, your head began to turn; but instead you closed your eyes and stepped into the ship, thinking of Aumiyat’s instructions to never come back.

The Mandalorian walked further into the ship and towards the area that you presumed to be the cockpit. The interior of the ship was largely clean and well organized, although relatively sparse, and in the corner you saw a pleasantly familiar sight — a durasteel cradle. It was closed, but you still had a fairly good idea of what was sleeping within it. The kid had definitely been a bright spot in your day, and you were excited that you would get to spend more time with him. You also saw the medicine that you had given them stored away by the crib, and you saw through the glass jar that some of it had been used. You smiled, happy to know that he trusted you at least this much. You were virtually strangers - aside from the half hour you had spent together this morning. Now that you thought of it, you didn’t even know his name.

You had heard people refer to his kind as ‘Mando’ before, but the broad applicability of it made you think that it wasn’t _his_ name. Would it even be appropriate to ask? Clearly he favored anonymity, the mask was an indication of that. How long could you possibly go without having some sort of term or name to refer to him by?

You were thinking of how to approach him about your past-due introductions, when you felt the ship rumble to life beneath you. Gravity pressed you down into the floor unexpectedly, and you had to catch yourself against the cold metal walls of the cabin to stop from falling entirely. The rumbling sound filled your ears, almost mimicking the sound of the waves that you had listened to in your town; you had no idea that the waves could sound so similar to machinery, and vice versa. You had only ever flown once before, and Orron had slipped you a sedative beforehand, so you had no real recollection of it. As you felt the ship continue to rise, you felt an excitement start to grow as you realized you may actually get to see the _stars._ You certainly gazed up at them every night, wondering what else may be out there for you, but they had always been so far removed from your grasp. But now you would be hurtling amongst them, and you couldn’t deny your excitement.

And with the growing excitement, there was also a growing fear. _Where were you even going? What planet would he be taking you to? What would you do once you got there?_ You supposed you could find work as a medic; a post-war galaxy had to be in need of your services. _Would the Mandalorian honor his word and give you a share of the bounty?_

Ah, the bounty. Your bounty. _It has a name_. How interesting that you had already begun to distance yourself from the events of the evening. Your body was likely fighting to protect you, to stave off the inevitable wave of shock that would at some point catch up to you. For now, though, you would continue to ride the wave of numbness, preferring it over the looming pain.

Your mind flashed back to the scene you had found yourself in; you honestly couldn’t recall the exact moment it had happened, but you remembered how his eyes never lost that icy glare, even in death. The same eyes that you stared into as a terrified girl; _she had thought that they were beautiful eyes, crystalline and clear, but they grew sharper and colder with time_. You felt grief for the life you had been forced to live for so long, angry at the universe for being so harsh. And for all the pain that Orron had caused, there was also a small part of you that mourned; he had been a significant part of your story, taking you away from a planet full of darkness to somewhere new —

And a sense of deja vu hit you so hard that you felt yourself immediately become nauseous. The breath you had been holding punched out of your chest, and your hands began to shake violently, like Merrell’s hands did when he went too long without a drink. Was this situation with the Mandalorian truly any different than the situation you had found yourself in ten years ago? You weren’t sure if the ship was spinning, or if it was just your head, but you slid down the wall and buried your face in your arms, hoping to block out the pounding, screeching sound of your thoughts. You could feel your nails digging into your skin, even through the fabric of your clothing, and there was a pulsating energy radiating outwards from you —

And you were brought back to the moment by the sound of high pitched crying, shortly accompanied by heavy footsteps. _Were you the one crying_? You honestly weren’t sure. You touched your hand to your mouth and realized that the sounds were not coming from you - so who did they belong to? Raising your head felt nearly impossible, it was so heavy, but you saw that the Mandalorian had returned to the cabin of the ship you had collapsed into, and he was cradling the screaming child. He turned to look at you, as he bounced the still-wailing child in his arms.

You pushed yourself up from the floor and swiped a hand across your face, hoping to mask the emotions you had wrestled with just moments ago; you didn’t need to drag the two of them into your pain. You deflected towards your usual role of caretaking and healing, feeling the need to resolve the child’s pain and wipe away the tears. You held your hands out towards the duo wordlessly, offering to take the crying child; you thought you heard him sigh in relief as he passed Grogu to you. “I don’t know what upset him. I can’t... communicate with him.”

You nodded, and cradled the child close to your chest, breathing deeply as you rubbed his back. Clearing your mind, you shifted your focus to the bundle in your arms to try and determine what was upsetting him, and suddenly you understood. You had been the one to upset him — your emotions had filled the ship, the encompassing darkness scaring the kid. “Shhh, shhh...” You whispered, rocking him back and forth in your arms. You tried to project to him that he was safe, everybody was safe, and you tried to further quiet your own tempest that had caught up to the kid. Slowly, the screams turned to cries, which turned to whimpers, which turned to quiet sniffles. “I’m sorry, Grogu,” you whispered softly, staring into his orblike eyes as they blinked away the last of the tears.

“What was it?” The modulator showed a great deal of concern and worry for the child, and that level of affection caught the attention of your heart. How interesting that the seemingly impenetrable man was so attached to this small creature.

Your back stiffened at his question. _How would you have this conversation with a stranger? How would you decide what to share with this man?_ He had already seen Orron’s attack on you, so you figured that whatever you told him likely wouldn’t catch him by surprise. You had gotten a bit lost in your own thoughts, being brought back to the moment as Grogu’s fat little fingers tangled into your hair that had fallen, and he started to laugh as he played with it; his kindness and trust made you feel brave. “I was upset, and he was able to sense it. Those like us can pick up on emotions better than most, whether we want to or not. What I was feeling... It scared him.”

The man stood almost startlingly still, the gaze of his visor pinning you to the wall. You were both waiting for the other to speak, and the resulting standstill seemed as though it may stretch on indefinitely.

“You have nothing to be afraid of here,” he finally spoke. You had seen that he was a man of few words, and yet the ones he chose to speak were able to bring you a measure of comfort. He turned around and headed back towards the cockpit of the ship, the child’s fears having subsided. You were unsure if you should follow him; you looked down to the grinning green face that was staring back up at you, and shrugged, figuring Grogu would want to be with... _his father? Was that the right word?_

Grogu showed you a toothy smile at your word choice. “Ah, so that’s the dynamic here,” you said with a laugh. How adorable that this was a father-son duo; it allowed you another modicum of insight into the man who you traveled with. “Which way? I have a feeling you know your way around here better than I do.” He pointed in the direction of the cockpit and you shrugged, following his lead. Stepping into it, you saw the Mandalorian rapidly pulling levers, hitting buttons, and you didn’t want to interrupt what looked to be like very important work.

He turned to face you, and nodded his helmet towards the seat next to him, a silent invitation to join him. You sat down carefully, terrified of accidentally bumping the wrong button, and finally settled into the seat comfortably after repositioning the child on your lap. “He wanted to be up here with you.”

The Mandalorian did not respond, and continued to navigate the ship through the atmosphere of the planet you had called home for so long. From your current perspective, the swirling blue oceans and craggy hillsides looked even more beautiful than you had ever realized, and you could feel a piece of yourself crying out for the familiarity you were leaving behind. It felt impossibly hard to pull your eyes away as you watched the world grow smaller and smaller with each passing second.

The kid stared up at you, no doubt picking up on your complex emotions, and grabbed onto your hand tightly as a gesture of comfort. You turned and focused your gaze onto him, not wanting to sink you both further into the sadness as you watched the planet disappear beneath you. After a while, the light from the planet started to dissipate and you assumed that the ship had left it behind entirely.

And _oh,_ upon looking up, the _sight_ you saw!

A vast blanket of darkness, illuminated with pinpricks of light that felt brighter and closer than ever before, and you were hurtling through it so quickly that it almost looked as though as though the stars themselves were racing past you. It was incredible, how you were moving through space and time like this, and yet the inside of the ship was still suspended within its own unique timeline.The light from each of these stars was only present for mere seconds, if that, but you felt as though you were somehow still seeing every single one of them, having never experienced anything like this in your lifetime.

Your stunned and enamored look must have caught the eye of the Mandalorian, as he was staring at you silently once again. He gave you very few cues as to what he was thinking behind the mask, but the slight tilt of the helmet made you think that he was... curious? You were curious as well; at least you shared this one small thing, strangers though you may be. Turning your gaze towards the thin visor that hid his eyes, you decided upon a safe and reasonable question to ask. “Where are we going?”

Your words seemed to startle him out of whatever reverie he had found himself in. “We are going to the planet Coruscant.”

You chose your words carefully, diplomatically. “Is that where you will make the exchange? For... the bounty?” You resented the way your voice cracked at the end.

“No.”

You felt your heart rate increase at his answer. You settled for a simple, “Alright.”

“I have another bounty to collect before returning to Nevarro.”

_That made more sense,_ you reasoned. _Bringing in multiple bounties at once would help to offset the cost of travel._ “And the bounties... Where, ah, where are they?” You were almost terrified to know the answer, to know where the body of your abuser laid. The one that you had killed, the one whose blood was likely still underneath your fingernails. You bit back a wave of nausea at the thought.

“Carbonite. They are stored underneath us.”

You felt bile rising in your throat at the thought of the bodies that were underneath you. You started to feel as if the floor to the cockpit would suddenly swallow you whole, trapping you there with the other killers who were now frozen. _You had killed someone. What, now, made you any different from those resting below you?_

He must have noticed your heavier breathing, as he turned to you. “You are safe here.”

Logically, you knew that the floor would not open beneath you. Logically, you knew the bodies were secured, and Orron was dead. You had seen it yourself. However, the Mandalorian’s word proved to be more comforting than any logic that you had tried to assuage yourself with.

You tried to reorganize your thoughts, shift your focus to something else, not wanting to spiral further. “Where should I stay, while we travel?”

There was an extended pause. You were becoming accustomed to them, at this rate.

“There is a bunk, right behind the kid’s cradle. It only sleeps one, but you are welcome to it while you are here.”

You blinked in surprise. “Where will you sleep?”

“I do not need the rest as much as you do.”

That was a fair assessment. He was a hardened bounty hunter who traveled and sought out violence for a living — what had been earth-shattering for you, was simply another day on the job to him. Even with that consideration the tone of the modulator, despite warping his true voice, did not hold any judgement for your exhaustion and pain.

The child had fallen asleep once again in your arms, feeling secure with the both of you. You repositioned him in your arms, and rose up from the seat, the weight and exhaustion of the day starting to catch up with you, and the idea of a bed was becoming more and more attractive with each passing minute. You were truly in desperate need of rest — after the healing, the fight, the healing, the goodbyes — you were entirely decimated and were the equivalent of the walking dead.

The Mandalorian did not say anything as you rose and disappeared from the cockpit; nor did you really expect him to. There was not much that would be necessary to say. You carried the child back to his cradle, and saw the bunk that was mentioned previously; it wasn’t anything fancy, but the grey woolen blanket looked warm and the comfort of it called to you. You moved to place the kid in the cradle, but upon the transfer he whined and grabbed at your shirtfront, not wanting to be put down. Rather than listen to the whining that was sure to continue, you picked him back up with a sigh, and set him down on the bunk before kicking your shoes off and climbing in next to him.

As you had thought, the cushion underneath you was soft and the blanket that you pulled up to your shoulders was warm; it was more than you needed, and you were immensely grateful for the Mandalorian’s offer to rest here. As the kid cuddled up next to you, in the crook of your arm, you began to feel sleep tugging at the corners of your consciousness again. You let the gentle hum of the ship and the kid’s soft breathing lull you to sleep, and as you began to drift, you smelled something — you couldn’t quite place it, but it was masculine and comforting, and you liked to imagine it was left by the curious stranger, the odd hero, your rugged rescuer.

You eventually drifted off into a secure and restful sleep, dreaming only of the racing stars that you had watched with wide-eyed wonder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connect with me at dirty-holy-things on Tumblr.


	4. Chapter 4

_“We have not touched the stars, nor are we forgiven, which brings us back to the hero’s shoulders and the gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it.” - Richard Siken_

Din had always enjoyed hyperspace. There was something comforting about the complete disconnect from distance and time, the way that everything was suspended, even if only for a moment. After so many years of traveling, he recognized that some of the enjoyment had worn away, almost as though he had grown desensitized to it. So when he saw you staring up at the expanse of stars, a small, scared, hopeful thing, he was a bit caught off guard.

It was something about your eyes, he decided; they held a kindness and gentleness that he had not seen for a very long time. Even the kid, as adorable as he was, didn’t hold the same kind of innocence that you did; and Din certainly wasn’t exposed to much gentleness or sweetness in his line of work. Sweetness and gentleness were preciously rare things in Din’s life, and yet here you were, brimming with it, and sleeping only mere meters away from him. Your eyes were incredibly expressive, and whenever he caught himself gazing into them, he was mesmerized by the way that he could see through to you. Usually, when looking into people’s eyes, he only saw fear, anger, terror — but then he remembered that he also saw that same look in your eyes in the store, when he had reached out to you, trying to wipe away the blood that was on your face. _How horrible that such a simple, kind gesture filled you with so much pain._

That visceral fear that Din saw in your eyes juxtaposed with the sweetness that you had shown the kid made something in his gut churn. He struggled to rationalize how someone so kind could have been so clearly wounded. _Why would anyone have reason to act that way towards you?_

He could also see that same fear flitting on and off of your face as you familiarized yourself with the Razor Crest, and he wanted to be able to say something that would take that fear away — but he had very little experience with comforting, and the best he was able to arrive at was, “You are safe here.” It was the truth; here, in hyperspace, she was entirely safe. Here with him, she was entirely safe — and Din desperately hoped that you knew that. He was not sure what would happen once the bounty was exchanged, but he did feel good knowing that at least for now, you were protected from a world that had clearly been unimaginably cruel.

The course to Coruscant had been set, and at the moment, Din had nothing else to do. No responsibilities, nothing that needed to be fixed, and the silence from the back of the ship indicated that both you and the child were likely sleeping soundly. As he rarely had peaceful moments like this, he decided to utilize the time he had to try and care for himself. It was a challenging thing to do, as his own care often fell fairly low in his priorities. _A shower would be a simple enough place to start, however._

Din was headed towards the fresher when he passed by the bunk, and his breath caught in his throat upon seeing Grogu’s head nestled under your chin, both of you sleeping soundly. It was incredibly sweet in its vulnerability; it warmed his heart to see the kid getting the attention and affection that he deserved, and he was grateful that you had felt safe enough to be able to rest here. He had never expected the bounty to go this way, and he certainly hadn’t expected for the kid to take to you so well. It was admittedly quite nice though to have a second pair of hands to help manage and entertain the kid. He stood there in the doorway for a moment, entranced and watching the way your shoulders rose and fell, your lips parting slightly with each soft sigh. Instinctively, his eyes traveled down your body — and he couldn’t deny that seeing a beautiful woman sleeping in his bed set off a burning feeling that spread throughout his torso. He noticed the way the blanket — _his blanket —_ pulled tightly around the curves of your body, and his hands burned as he tried to fight the sudden need to hold you.

Trying to shake off the intrusive feeling, he kept his feet moving forward towards the fresher. _You were simply a passenger, a business associate, nothing more; it was rude and improper to think about you in any other way._ Turning on the water, he cranked the heat as high as it could go, hoping that the hot water would dispel some of the tension he carried in his shoulders and the images that were playing through his mind. Checking that the door was securely closed, he began to remove the beskar, starting with the helmet. He largely ignored his reflection in the mirror, having grown used to anonymity, even from himself. Wearing the armor felt like second nature at this point, and being stripped of it, he felt uncomfortably exposed; so it rarely left its position, the wearer preferring to remain concealed.

The steam filling the fresher indicated that the water had finally heated up, and he stepped under the water, feeling some of the tension start to dissipate as his muscles began to relax ever so slightly. As he was so often clothed and in armor, he was still sometimes surprised by sensations on his bare skin; lifting his hand up to grab the bar of soap, he watched the droplets of water run down his muscled forearm, eventually joining together in rivulets before disappearing down the drain below him. _Some days he felt like a stranger in his own skin._ His perpetual lack of physical contact and sensations made the rare occurrences of it even more significant and heightened; his mind wandered back to the times that he had assisted you and wrapped an arm around your small waist, and how that simple touch had left him aching for even more.

He dismissed the thoughts that were clouding his mind and proceeded to clean himself up from the trip to the last planet. Scrubbing off the salt and sweat that had accumulated, he rushed to get himself cleaned and redressed before the ship, the child, or you needed something. Keeping his hygiene routine simple was a beneficial skill that had become ingrained in his life, largely out of functionality.

He hurried to put the armor back on, catching one glimpse of his face before the darkness of the helmet temporarily obstructed his view. A few lines had developed around his brown eyes, and he wondered if his eyes were ever as kind as the ones that had been staring up at the stars.

Suddenly, the ship lurched to the side, and Din’s hip rammed into the edge of the sink; cursing, he opened the fresher door and raced back to the cockpit, trying to determine what had caused the sudden disruption. The Razor Crest was an ancient ship and was subject to quite a bit of turbulence and mechanical disruption. Unable to find an exact source for the shift, Din assumed it was likely passing debris or turbulence; nothing seemed to be broken, and all systems were operational. The disturbance had, however, awoken the Razor Crest’s passengers.

Din watched you make your way to the cockpit cautiously, the child tucked into your arms securely. They seemed to have become quite attached in the last, what, 24 hours? He wasn’t sure what the kid would do when they inevitably had to part ways. You had been one of only two people that Grogu had been able to connect with, and he was somewhat saddened at the thought of Grogu’s oncoming goodbye.

“Is everything alright?” You whispered quietly, your nervousness showing in your voice as you leaned against the entrance to the cockpit.

Din nodded. “Likely just turbulence, or passing debris.”

You nodded slowly, assuming that there would not be much more of an explanation offered.

“I can take him, if you’d like.” Din offered, noticing the dark purple and blue circles that had taken up residence under your eyes. He reminded himself that while your days may have overlapped considerably, you had experienced them in very different ways. _Not everyone is as acquainted with death as he is._ Your small body still showed signs of exhaustion despite the earlier rest. 

You nodded and stepped forward to pass the child to Din; green fingers clutched at Din’s beskar breastplate and you stepped back, your arms pulled tightly against your chest now that the child had been taken. You smiled a silent thank you at Din, and he felt the corners of his lips quirk up, and even though you couldn’t _see_ it, he felt as though you somehow still _knew._

As you turned to leave the cockpit, the hair on the nape of your neck shifted and exposed a thread of blue and purple bruises; following the pattern, Din suddenly understood that those were _handprints._ Something vile stirred in him — and he realized he was quite pleased to know that the man he had gone after was dead. “You did the right thing,” he started slowly, his word choices being very honest and intentional. “Killing him.”

Your eyes shot up to his visor and he almost swore it was like you could see through it just then. He hoped that those were the words you needed to hear, hoped that he hadn’t hurt you further. He watched your lower lip tremble slightly, your chest expanding with a deep breath. “I knew... I knew it was either going to be me or him, on the floor. And... I...” Your voice shook, unable to find the words.

“You did the right thing. You survived.”

_For whatever comfort that may or may not have provided, it was the truth._

He could see you grit your teeth together as a tear rolled down your cheek. You nodded your head rapidly, more so in confirmation to yourself than to Din, pacing slightly in the small cockpit. Judging from the state he had found you in, your assessment was right — it was either you or him, and the man had a bounty on his head anyway. The payout for the bounty would’ve been higher, had he lived, but Din found satisfaction in knowing that the bastard had bled out on the dirty floor of the lounge. It was a better death than what he deserved. Din was also somewhat proud of you for being the one to fight back and win, knowing that there had been some measure of justice dealt today.

You didn’t say anything more before stepping out of the cockpit entirely; Din looked down at the kid’s wide eyes and sighed after the door closed behind you. “Don’t... don’t get too attached, kid.” Grogu blinked at him in confusion. “I don’t know how long she’ll be here, with us.”

_Us. What an odd concept._ Din had grown accustomed to being entirely on his own, and now he had a ship that felt almost too small for its current cargo. He had taken a liking to the kid, and not being entirely sure what to do with him, he had accepted that they would likely be traveling together indefinitely. _But you? You were an unexpected addition_. Din wasn’t sure what to do, or what to say, or what to expect. You had shocked him considerably when you offered the body in exchange for his help; under normal circumstances, he likely wouldn’t have taken such a gamble, but he had seen how sweet you had been with the kid, and when he realized that the blonde man had attacked you... he felt some innate need to protect you, even though the man was already bleeding out on the floor, even though you had been the one to put him there. Maybe it came from a lifetime of hunting down degenerates like this man, or maybe the kid had softened him up, but he surprised himself when he agreed to your bargain, feeling somehow relieved to know that you would be safe in his protection.

_Safe, at least, for now._ Din still didn’t know what your intentions were; upon arriving at Nevarro, he fully intended to honor your agreement regarding payment, but where would you go from there? Would you find work, housing, food? _Where would your story take you, once you had gone your separate ways?_

The growing curiosity and concern was becoming unnerving for Din, and he tried to suppress it, reminding himself that you are one stranger in a galaxy full of life and that your involvement was strictly limited to the body that was frozen in carbonite beneath him. He reminded himself that his lifestyle is not compatible with companionship. It only serves to create additional complications and vulnerabilities; Grogu had already proven that to be true. And then there was the matter of his creed; even something as simple as sharing his name carried an enormous amount of weight and significance, and how could he continue to travel with someone while maintaining his anonymity? _How could he ever ask someone to spend their life with a faceless stranger?_

_This is the way,_ he thought quietly. He had chosen to follow this path, and would see it through.

The kid was getting restless, his noises growing louder as he began randomly grabbing at items, trying to put them into his mouth and see if they were edible. “Hey, hey,” Din chastised him, “You can’t eat that.” The kid frowned at him, his large ears drooping down to his little shoulders. Din sighed and scooped the kid up into his arms, knowing that he needed to eat before he took a substantial bite out of the ship.

Sorting through the rations that Din had on the ship, the kid finally found something he was interested in more than the seatbelt, and sat down on the floor to begin eating. Just as Din was sitting down next to him, thinking that he should probably eat something as well, the fresher door opened with a rolling cloud of steam, and you stepped out with nothing but a towel wrapped around your torso —

Din felt his heart thudding in his chest and the front of his pants grew tighter as his body responded to the unexpected and intimate display. He turned away quickly, not wanting to cause you any embarrassment, and he was suddenly thankful for the beskar helmet that hid what was certainly a stunned look on his face. _He hadn’t seen anything more than a woman’s face in, fuck, a few years?_ He genuinely wasn’t sure. And then here you were, in _his_ ship, in _his_ towel, and Din felt like he was starting to get hot and dizzy underneath his armor.

“Gods, I’m so sorry, I didn’t — I didn’t realize you were out here — oh, shit,” You stammered, trying to grab clothing, any clothing you could reach from your bag.

“You’re, ah, it’s alright — I didn’t, ah, see anything —“ Din’s throat felt tight as he realized that while he wasn’t outright lying to you, he wasn’t _entirely_ truthful in his admission. He had seen the long, lean line of your legs, the curve of your back, draped in a towel — _his towel —_ which wrapped tightly around your backside, giving Din a _very_ clear mental image of what was underneath — _fuck, he needed to get himself under control, he couldn’t let this become any more complicated than it already had._

As he stared dutifully at the wall to allow you some privacy, Din heard the fresher door close and he exhaled a breath he didn’t even realize he had been holding. Still keeping his back turned to the door, he heard you reemerge shortly after, likely fully clothed this time. He tried to push away the mental image from before but fuck, he was only human, and despite the beskar he hid behind, his body still reacted like a human’s.

You stood against the door to the fresher, the awkwardness in the room having some sort of unspoken undercurrent of tension. “Are you hungry?” Din asked, turning around to face you and trying to change the subject. He hoped this would distract him from the throbbing between his thighs, as he tried to steady his breathing and slow his heart rate that had likely been moving at light speed.

You sat down next to him, leaning against the wall while still maintaining a few feet of distance. An appropriate choice but one that some part of Din resented. “Starving, actually.”

Din nodded towards the storage of food, a silent invitation to take what you needed. Din watched you and the kid eating, his body having eventually calmed down, and he was enjoying the relative silence. He pushed his canteen of water over to you, being mindful to not initiate any physical content out of fear of how his body may react. _Clearly the months, no, years, of isolation had taken a toll on him._ You thanked him for the canteen, and once you had finished eating you leaned your head back against the cool metal of the ship and closed your eyes.

The three of you sat like this for quite a while, not wanting to disrupt the comfortable, easy peace that had descended upon the ship like a warm ray of sunshine; Din hadn’t felt like this in his own ship before, the feeling intrusive but enticing. Finally, your eyes opened and you turned them to Din, the exhaustion and relief clearly written on your face. “What should I call you?”

Din hesitated.

“I just wouldn’t want to offend you — I know that anonymity and identity is important, but I grew up hearing the name Mando and wasn’t sure if that was an appropriate name, or a slur, or something rude.” You elaborated, the words tumbling out of your mouth nervously.

“You’re right. Our names, and identities, are significant. Not freely given.” Din paused. “It is not offensive to refer to me as Mando.”

You nodded, your gaze still fixed on the thin visor of his mask. “Mando.”

Something about the way you spoke made the name sound different. He was used to hearing it shouted across bars, by enemies and associates alike; hearing it whispered as he walked by; the name had never bothered him as it was the best name that he could provide to the myriad of people he encountered through his travels, but hearing it in your voice, spoken softly into the hum of the Razor Crest, something about it didn’t feel right. _He wanted to hear you call him by his name._ That was a terrifying revelation.

“When we get to Coruscant, should I stay with the ship? With the kid?”

Appreciating the shift in conversation and focus, he pondered your question, thinking of the bounty that he would be searching for on the bustling planet. It should be relatively quick, no more than two days, as he had many connections here who would be able to point him in the right direction. “Unless you are looking to part ways on Coruscant, I would ask you to stay.”

You seemed to be agreeable to this, and Din was pleased to hear that you did not have any intention to leave just yet. _Having someone to supervise the kid was simply a matter of convenience,_ he reasoned with himself. _Didn’t have to worry about keeping track of the kid during an exchange of blaster fire, or worry that he would run off and eat something again._ Given the kid’s newfound attachment to you, he was not worried about your abilities to keep the both of you safe and contained while he was gone. “We should be there in a few hours.”

“I can keep Grogu occupied, if you’d like to rest.”

The thought of getting some rest before chasing down another bounty was tempting, and knowing that the kid wouldn’t get into trouble while he slept was a prospect he had not been faced with for several months now. Din nodded, and pushed himself up from the floor. He turned to offer you a hand, a small part of him wanting to experience that sensation again. He pulled you up to your feet gently, enjoying how small your hand felt clasped in his. You were the first to let go, but Din continued to feel the ghost of your touch even after you had stepped away to grab the kid before he could climb onto anything. You and the kid moved towards the cockpit, but before disappearing entirely, Din heard your voice echo through the ship, carrying a kindness that had not existed within these walls for quite some time.

“Sleep well, Mando.”

The words echoed in his head continually as he climbed into the bunk. Having removed the majority of his beskar, he settled in, choosing to leave the helmet on as he could not be sure that you or the kid would not come back here at some point before he woke up. It wasn’t the most comfortable arrangement, but after months of traveling with the kid he had grown accustomed to it, had figured out how to rest in a way that didn’t make his neck ache. He punched in an alarm that would go off well before he needed to land, but still gave him the bit of rest that you knew he needed.

Pulling the blanket around him, he felt his body starting to relax and slow down, understanding that now was a time for rest. As he shifted into a more comfortable position, he realized that the padding, which after years of travel had molded to his shape, had changed; within the span of only a day, you had already started to change the home that he had created for himself here within the walls of his ship.

_No, he though, not a home. Home is not just one person. Home is not just a ship._

But now, having made your presence here known, something had changed. You had left an impression, in more ways than Din maybe realized. Din decided he didn’t mind the change, at least for now. There was little comfort to be found in the freezing cold of hyperspace, and as he pulled the blanket tighter around him, he decided that at least for tonight, he wouldn’t resent himself this one small comfort of connection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connect with me at dirty-holy-things on Tumblr.


	5. Chapter 5

_“That is an act of power, showing what you know, giving it to another person, realizing that as you spread it, you get to keep it but watch it grow, not by watching others have it you learn new things about the original thing.” - Jenny Slate, Little Weirds_

“Sleep well, Mando,” You called out to the back of the ship, where the man you now knew as Mando was resting. It was nice to finally have a name to use in regard to him, albeit a very generalized nickname; you had felt that your journey may have been complicated if you had no name to use to refer to him. You and Grogu settled into the weathered seats of the cockpit, and you leaned your seat back to watch the millions of stars continue to streak through your field of vision. No matter how many times you see this, you didn’t think it would ever lose its wonder. You felt as though you could spend forever here, suspended in this inbetween plane of existence.

Grogu followed your eyes up, staring through the same glass but certainly seeing a different positioning of stars than you, stars that you were certain you would likely never see. “It’s quite a sight, isn’t it?” You said quietly, continuing to crane your head upwards. Despite the odd angle at which you found your neck, you were still comfortable with your surroundings and your current companion. The seat was well-cushioned and broken in, the cockpit was warm, and you had showered and slept, leaving the horrors of the previous day on the surface of Chandrila, unable tofollow you here into hyperspace.

A green claw pointed up at your neck and Grogu looked at you sadly, his ears drooping. You nervously brushed your hair in a way to hide the bruises, not wanting to scare him any further; you still felt awful about having upset him earlier, but the way he had fallen asleep next to you in the bunk made you think that he didn’t hold any resentment for it. He frowned and made a small noise of discontent after you had moved your hair away; curious as to what he was thinking, you moved from your seat to sit on the floor of the cockpit, facing the chair that Grogu was seated in. “What is it?” You asked, your head tilting to the side in confusion as you searched for an answer in his large eyes.

The kid shifted forward into the seat, reaching out to you with a short little green arm; your brows knitting together in confusion, you shifted closer towards him, until you were nearly touching foreheads. From this distance, you could... _sense_?... that he wanted to try something. “Alright, I trust you.”

His small hand connected with one of the bruises, a stinging feeling radiating through you, and he looked up at you with his orblike eyes. _He was waiting to see if you were okay_. You nodded, swallowing around the lump in your throat. Upon your indication, he closed his eyes and you could feel a shift in the air around you as he began to focus. Gradually, you started to notice that the bands of pressure in your neck started to dissipate; your breathing became easier and less painful, and a ringing in your ear that you hadn’t really even noticed began to quiet. Tension left your body and you felt a warmth glowing under your skin, finally feeling whole and well again.

When Grogu’s hand lifted away from you, there were already tears streaming down your face in rivers. Nobody except Aumiyat had ever taken care of you like this, had made such an effort to relieve your pain. The kid smiled up at you, laughing as he showed you his razor-sharp teeth, clearly excited and proud of his accomplishments. You laughed along with him through your tears, reveling in this moment of unabashed joy and excitement. “Have you ever done that before, Grogu?” He shook his head. “Did you learn that from watching me?” He nodded, babbling sounds coming from him with a smile. It was absolutely incredible how he had picked up on your skills so quickly.

You started to wonder what else he could do; having suppressed so many of your abilities out of fear, and necessity, you only ever spent any energy or focus on healing; you knew that you had handicapped yourself and were regretting it. “I wonder if I can learn something from you,” you mused, watching the child wiggle in the seat. “Can you show me something that you can do?”

Looking around the cockpit, Grogu eventually settled his gaze on a stray tool that had been pushed to the side, almost hidden by the other flight equipment; you watched him closely, clearing your mind so you could fully focus on what he was doing. You felt another familiar shift in the room as the kid’s arm reached out in the direction of the tool, and you felt your eyes drift half-closed, a hum coming from your lips as your nerve endings started to vibrate — was this _the_ Force, the one that had only existed in fairytales? Were you finally able to feel it, to give it a name and acknowledge its presence?

The tool began to gradually shift, wrenching its way out from underneath the clutter it was trapped underneath, and then all of a sudden — it whizzed across the room, flying directly into Grogu’s little green grasp. You laughed in surprise and amazement, clapping your hands at the brilliant sight. “I think I have a lot to learn from you, friend,” you said, nudging Grogu’s chin gently with your index finger. He giggled and let go of the tool, however it continued to hover in midair rather than clattering to the floor. An unseen force moved it towards you, until you reached out your palm to grasp it. Grogu looked at you expectantly.

“I’ll give it my best shot,” you said dubiously, feeling less confident in your abilities than Grogu seemed to be. You worked to slow down your mind, while feeling the ridges and the sharp lines of the tool in your open palm. Gradually, the noise in the room began to quiet, until you could only faintly hear the hum of the engines beneath you. Taking a deep breath, you reached down somewhere deep inside you, and focused all of your willpower to move the tool _up_ — and you felt the weight of the tool begin to shift, one end of it lifting slightly. Amazed at the sight, your focus broke as you began to laugh, a massive grin spreading across your face even though the tool had dropped back into your hand. “I did it! Grogu, did you see that? I did it!”

The kid’s hands reached out and grabbed towards you, and you held the tool out on your open palm, waiting for him to take it back. Seeming to require less effort this time, he was able to draw the tool back to him, grasping the large tool in his hands. It was almost comically large compared to his small body. He held the tool out towards you, encouraging you to repeat his previous actions. You cocked an eyebrow at him, thinking that his confidence was a bit unwarranted as you had only barely moved the thing last time. He continued to stare at you expectantly, almost with a ‘try me’ attitude, and you rolled your eyes in pretend exasperation. You supposed that you would rely on his confidence in you, until you were able to build upon it yourself.

Bringing yourself back to the calm, meditative place from before came a little easier the second time around. Your mind lasered in on the tool held in the open green hand, and with a massive mental push, that almost felt as though you were putting your whole back into it — the tool sprung out of Grogu’s hand and bounced across the floor, clanging echoing through the cockpit.

Exhaling forcefully, you looked up at the kid with excitement. “Let’s go again?”

You continued to practice for hours, sending the tool flying in and around the cockpit, laughing and wheezing with exhaustion and joy. You felt something in your chest opening up in a way that you hadn’t felt since you were a small child, when you were excitedly pulling your toys along behind you in midair. Slowly, you were starting to become more in tune with a piece of yourself that you had been forced to hide for so long; while your body was becoming more physically tired from the exertion that was required, there was a piece of your soul that felt more alive and energized than ever before.

Within a matter of hours, you and Grogu were playing a game of catch, passing the tool back and forth between your open palms, never actually connecting with the metal that floated inbetween you. Occasionally, you both would try manipulating it in new directions, throwing it from behind your back or sending it in a route that skimmed over seats into the other’s waiting hands. It was absolutely incredible and you felt absolutely electric and elated.

This was the sight that Mando walked in on. The door to the cockpit opened, and being so engrossed in the task of catching the tool, you barely even noticed — until after the tool had passed from Grogu’s palm to your own, and you sent it back to him, untouched.

He stood there, frozen, having been caught entirely off guard by your activities. An exhausted but content smile had taken up residence on your face, and you turned to gaze into the visor, feeling entirely unapologetic for the shocking display. If someone had seen this even a day before, you likely would’ve run away in fear of what they would do to you; but you were content and secure here, and you had no apologies to offer him for the unexpected sight. “Grogu and I have been learning a lot from each other,” you laughed, imagining that there was a stunned and startled look hidden behind all of that beskar. You would’ve paid a considerable amount of money to see even one of his surely incredulous facial expressions.

Mando continued to stand in the doorway, unmoving for a long period of time. The kid hopped down from his seat and waddled over to Mando, grabbing onto his shin, demanding attention. Mando wordlessly scooped Grogu up into his arms, and walked past you to sit down in the pilot’s seat, hitting a few glowing buttons on his way. “We should be landing on Coruscant soon, within the hour,” he finally spoke.

You weren’t sure if he had been upset by the game that he had walked into, or if this was just an extenuation of his typical reserved behavior. You stood up from the floor of the cockpit, smoothing out your rumpled clothing and taking a seat behind Mando. “How long will we be on Coruscant?”

“Two days.”

“And then to Nevarro, after that?”

Mando nodded, keeping his focus on navigating the ship through Coruscant’s atmosphere. You were feeling a mix of emotions, complicated emotions, that had all tangled together. A part of you was dreading watching Mando leave, knowing that he would be gone for two days; you had grown used to his company, and your easy but small conversations.Another part of you was nervous that you wouldn’t be able to keep the kid safe. Another part of you was incredibly grateful for the stop on Coruscant, delaying your arrival to Nevarro, not wanting this new place of safety and comfort to be taken from you just yet. You tried to suppress that last thought, knowing that you would have to part from the duo once the exchange had been made; those were the terms of your agreement, and then you would be on your own.

Independence was a terrifying thought. Independence with no supports or connections was even more terrifying. You had jumped at the opportunity to leave your old life behind, but you jumped in headfirst without stopping to think about _what would happen next?_ You had enjoyed your time on the Razor Crest, with Grogu and Mando; and despite your time together being so limited, you had still opened up to both of them in ways that you never would have anticipated. Aumiyat had been the only one to knew of the abuse you suffered at the hands of Orron, and it took you nearly two years to admit the truth to her. She also never knew the extent of your abilities, and now, after one night’s rest, you were playing Force-catch in the presence of a stranger. You had felt secure here, suspended in time, suspended between different worlds that all held their own trials. Home was behind, and the entire galaxy was before you, and yet you had absolutely no desire to move from this safe space of _inbetween._

Lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t register just how close you were to Coruscant until you felt the ship land with a slight thud. Looking around at the city extended before you, you couldn’t help but gasp — you had never seen something this alive, this vibrant, this electric. You had heard of the wealth and lavish lifestyles of the core worlds growing up, but had never experienced it firsthand. Chandrila was beautiful, but nothing as extravagant as this. Your little remote home planet of Eadu, composed largely of fields as opposed to skyscrapers, felt even further away than ever before.

You continued to stare, drinking in all of the lights, the people, the beautiful sunset extending before you, even after Mando had walked out of the cockpit and off of the ship entirely. The kid had stayed behind with you, and had begun climbing onto a myriad of surfaces that you were _certain_ he shouldn’t be on. Chastising him gently, you picked him up and cradled him against your hip, wedged securely in the crook of your arm. “Wonder where your dad’s gone off to?”

Not wanting to intrude on Mando’s business, you set about finding a way to continue to entertain the kid, or at least wear him out enough so that he would go back to sleep for a bit. You grabbed one of the food rations that was stored in the ship, and the sound of it brought the kid’s attention back to you, staring up at you expectantly. You raised an eyebrow, challenging him to a new task.It was a new game you had just come up with, but you had a feeling that the kid would appreciate it.

You sat down a few feet away from him, and tearing off a bite of food, you tossed it towards him; he reached out his little clawed hand and stopped it in midair, then brought it sailing right into his mouth. He giggled and raised his arms at this new type of engagement, and you both carried on this way for a while, until he began to get tired and missed several catches, the food scattered over the floor. You cleaned up the mess that had resulted from your game, not wanting to risk upsetting Mando. “Now that you’ve got a full belly,” you said, shuffling across the floor to him, “I think it’s time for you to get some rest. What do you think?”

The kid’s eyes were starting to droop closed, his ears sagging, and while he may not have agreed with you verbally, his body was beginning to show its exhaustion in a way that couldn’t be denied. You picked him up gently, placing his head into the crook of your shoulder, bouncing him gently as you walked in slow, lazy circles around the ship. You began to hum while rubbing his back in circles, no real melody or intentions in mind, just hoping to relax the kid enough for him to drift off to sleep. Finally, you felt the last vestiges of tension leave his body and you knew that he was sleeping soundly. You continued to hold him for a moment, enjoying the contact and the feeling of security. You tucked your head closer to him, breathing slowly and deeply, committing this moment in the Razor Crest to memory. You knew that your heart would wander back to this moment often after you said your inevitable goodbyes, and you wanted to familiarize yourself to this moment so deeply that you could relive it indefinitely.

The sudden sound of Mando’s heavy boots landing on the floors of the ship turned your head, and you whipped around, silencing him with a soft “shh,” as you pointed to the sleeping bundle in your arms. You had spent a great deal of time trying to wear him out and lull him to sleep, and you didn’t want to be faced with what would surely be comparable to a toddler awoken unexpectedly from a much-needed nap.

Something about the bluntness of your response shook him, as he took a half step backwards in surprise. You watched the visor turn from you to the kid, and then back to you again; and then he continued to step forward into the ship, his footsteps soft and intentional, no longer echoing. Then, in an act that surprised _you,_ he made his way towards the durasteel cradle that floated next to the bunk, and pressed a button on his vambrace that opened the cradle with a soft hiss. You smiled at him, understanding, and approached the cradle with soft steps of your own so as not to disturb the kid during the short journey.

Placing the kid down gently, you tucked his comically small blanket around him, before Mando closed the cradle again. You turned to smile at the blank visor and crossed your arms over your chest, impressed with your own performance during the handoff.

“I’ve never gotten him to fall asleep like that.” Mando’s voice held a measure of respect and incredulity.

You shrugged, placing a hand onto the top of the cradle, not wanting to brag about your apparently impressive domestic skills. “I wore him out pretty well, we played while you were gone. He’s a pretty incredible kid.”

“I saw you playing with him earlier. He’s never acted like that before. Like,” he paused, “Like a kid.” His voice held such kindness and affection for the kid, and you felt something in your heart ache for it, and ache for the childhood that Grogu had apparently been denied.

“Everyone deserves to enjoy their childhood.” You said with a sad sigh, knowing that so many were so often unable to. You and Grogu shared this, tied together by a shared sad story.

Maybe that was why you took to each other so well.

“Not everybody gets to,” Mando said with a hint of sadness. “I didn’t.”

You looked into the thin visor of the helmet, wishing that you could somehow see through it, see the man behind the mask that was so clearly hurting from a life that had been built on suppression. Something about his truthful and personal admission tugged at your heart, and your arms felt like they so desperately needed to wrap around him, beskar and all. For all your talents as a healer, you had never been able to heal emotional wounds, so you would turn to the only other tools you had to try and alleviate the pain — holding someone close, telling them they’re not alone, and trying to transfer all of the love that you held simply through touch.

You had a feeling that Mando would not take well to much unprompted contact, but as the silence stretched on between you after his admission, you felt more of an impulse to act. Closing the distance between you with a few short steps, you waited for him to stop you as your hands raised from your sides — but he allowed you to continue, and you already felt immeasurably grateful for this moment of trust — and you placed one hand against the cool beskar helmet, another resting on the pauldron on his shoulder. Your gaze fixed on the beskar chest plate in front of you, not wanting to upset or unnerve him with any more intrusiveness.

You stood like this for several minutes, and as you were so close to him, you could smell the soap that he used, could smell the leather and a hint of blaster fire, and you decided that you would not be the first to pull away. If you were being truthful, you wanted more — _you wanted to wrap your body around him entirely, feel his arms holding tight around you again_ — but this moment was not about what you needed. You would let him make the decisions, allowing him control over the situation.

A gloved hand rose from Mando’s side, moving slowly and unsteadily, as if he was unsure of what he wanted to do. It took several moments for the movement to be complete, and then his hand came to rest on top of yours that was cradling the sharp lines of the beskar helmet. You felt your breath catch in your throat, your heartbeat quickening to a racing pace as the leather pressed into your skin. Despite the glove separating the two of you, you could still feel the warmth of his large hand, dwarfing yours; you watched his chest rise and fall steadily, breathing deeply, reveling in the glow of the kindness and connection that you two had desperately needed for so long.

Eventually, Mando’s hand moved to wrap around your fingers, clasping them gently, and he pulled you both away from the beskar that had now warmed from your touch. Bringing his hand down, he continued to hold you at his side for a moment, staring at you silently through the visor. Something in the room had shifted with this contact, this exchange, and it had left both of you clueless and curious as to what would happen from here. After a moment, he released your hand, and stepped into the cockpit of the ship, likely readying himself for this next bounty. Your feet felt as though they were made of lead as you stood there, still somewhat in shock from your bold actions and his receptiveness. For all the times that you had reminded yourself that you were strangers, you had both made extraordinary efforts to comfort one another, and you understood that after this gesture, you could no longer call yourselves strangers. You continued to stand by the cradle for quite a while, before eventually moving to sit down on the bunk to try and sort through all of the feelings that were crowding inside of your head.

You wanted to know so much _more_ about him now, having finally gotten the smallest insight about the man behind the mask. What had his childhood been like? How did he end up walking the solitary path of the Mandalorian? What influencing factors had led him to this choice? You were brimming with questions, feeling them burning on the tip of your tongue; but you chastised yourself, knowing that you had no right to such personal information, and knowing that pressing someone to share such personal information only caused more distress, certainly distress for someone who valued anonymity. For the amount of time that you were guaranteed to spend together, between here and Nevarro, you would allow him to share whatever he desired, hoping that he would trust you enough to disclose more — but also understanding that it was borderline illogical to delve so deep with a person who you would then say goodbye to. _The thought of saying goodbye made your heart drop._

Your head felt as though it was drunkenly spinning, after the emotional upheaval of your moment with Mando and the exertion of learning with Grogu; you leaned back into the bunk, telling yourself that you would just rest for a moment, as you felt somewhat responsible for keeping the ship and the child in one piece while Mando was gone. The comfort of the bunk, however, had other intentions and you could feel your body aching for rest. Fighting to keep your heavy eyelids opened, you wanted to know what Mando was planning, or to be able to say goodbye — you didn’t know what appropriate parting for a bounty hunter was, but you wanted to see him one more time before he left.

The heavy footsteps shook off some of the sleep that was creeping up on you, and you forced yourself into a mostly-upright position in anticipation of— what, instructions? A goodbye?

“Be safe. Keep the kid safe. If you need anything, there is a market close by.” Mando’s strides carried him across the cabin of the ship, towards where you and the kid lay resting. His hand shot out from his side, and you saw that he was handing you credits — “The kid has... quite the appetite. You may need this.”

A simultaneously blank and surprised look on your face, you wordlessly accepted the credits that he handed to you, a small and covert part being upset at the lack of contact within the transaction.

Mando fixed the gaze of his visor onto you, and you felt the blood rush to your cheeks — _why_? — and a piece of your mind cried out, _don’t go!_ And as quickly as the thought came, he turned around, grabbing his jet pack and shrugging it onto his shoulder. Your window of time before his departure was shrinking, and you were screaming internally at the prospect of being _alone —_

The sound of his steps began to get quieter and quieter, and then all of a sudden you shot up straight in the bunk, the words punching desperately through your chest —

“Be safe, Mando.”

It was not much, it was far less than what you really wanted to say _— I feel more secure with you than I ever have, please don’t leave, I’m terrified to be alone here in a new world, what if the kid misses you, what if you don’t come back, what if I’m scared of how much I already miss you —_ but when his footsteps stopped for just a moment, you knew that he had heard you and for now, you would be thankful simply for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connect with me on Tumblr at dirty-holy-things.


	6. Chapter 6

_I simply want and what dear god is on the other side of want? I want that too. My want is so wide I cannot cross it. - Michael Lee, The Only Words We Know_

Din was immeasurably grateful for the distance that he had gotten from the complex emotional hub that the Razor Crest had turned into. He didn’t resent it, per se, but stepping back into his usual, mathematical, detached lifestyle was a welcomed break from the turmoil that had stirred within the walls of the ship. He could take a punch easier than he could let himself feel an emotion, and it felt as though you had battered the absolute _shit_ out of him. An odd choice of metaphor, seeing as how you had been the sweetest thing he had known in life.

He had been able to largely avoid the swirling storm of emotions for nearly two days while he tracked down this bounty; it had been just challenging enough to keep his mental resources occupied, enough to revert back into the muscle memory of his time before the kid, before you, before so many things had become so entangled. There were two factions fighting within him, and at any given time their relative strengths could vary. Part of him longed for the simple, detached lifestyle he had known for so long, while another part had been awoken by the love and connection that he had been denied for so long, and he wanted _more._

_More was not reasonable. More was not feasible_.

But _Gods,_ when you touched him, he felt a part of himself come alive in ways he never knew existed. You had shone the light on a hidden part of his heart and now he feared that he would long for it indefinitely, permanently. He was terrified that if he let you leave, he would spend the rest of his life searching the galaxy for that same feeling he had gotten from a simple, intentional touch.

Hauling the body of his bounty back to the Razor Crest, his stomach felt like it was spinning, trapped in an endless battle between his heart and his head. His heart was pulling him forward faster and faster, desperate to see you and the kid again, to be reunited, while his head was dragging, screaming that this needed to _stop._

His head could only put up so much of a protest, as the outline of the Razor Crest peeked over the city line. It had been just under two full days, and the thought of what waited inside the hull of the ship made him more nervous than the limp body that was hauled along behind him.

_A bounty hunter scared of his own ship. How absurd_.

He mechanically began going through the motions of completing this bounty and securing it for delivery. Stepping into the lower hull of the ship, where the chunks of carbonite resided, he forcefully shoved his torrent of emotions down so deep that his mind was finally blank. These actions were routine and familiar, as dark as they may be, and he was thankful for this brief reprieve. He needed to catch his breath for just a small moment before stepping back into the incongruence of his heart and head. He knew his presence in the ship would not go unnoticed for long, as he stepped into the upper level of the cabin where a piece of his heart had been waiting for him.

_It was surprisingly quiet_ , he mused, wondering what you and the kid had gotten into. Surveying the ship, it appeared as though nothing was out of place, almost as though... almost as though nobody had even been there. This was a terrifying thought as his mind started to race, thinking of all of the horrible things that could have happened while he left you here, _unprotected, god how fucking stupid was that._ His heart started to pound and he was certain he could feel the echo of his heartbeats through the beskar breastplate as he nervously scanned the small interior for the both of you. Finally, thankfully, his eyes came to rest on two sleeping forms that were housed within his bunk. He felt himself exhale in gratitude, his racing heart and mind starting to wind down from their rush of fear and adrenaline. He realized that this was the second time that he had walked into this scene, and while he may have hoped that it would lose its sweetness, it had only aged well with time.

A blanket was wrapped tightly around the two of you, largely covering Grogu’s small body. You were laying on your back, your head tossed to the side, hair tumbling in a beautiful and disorganized mess over the pillow; your arms were wrapped across your chest, with a small green and brown bundle nestled inbetween your arms. One of the little green arms poked out just barely from underneath the blanket, holding what appeared to be... a toy wampa. That was certainly new.

Din continued to stand in the doorway, relishing this moment of existence inbetween sleep and waking, inbetween isolation and company. It brought a certain amount of contentedness to his head and his heart, simultaneously meeting the needs of both; however he knew this could not stretch on indefinitely. Eventually, something would disrupt this scene — someone would wake up, Din knew he still had a deadline to meet with Karga, or the manager of the docking bay would come looking for more credits for an extended stay. This moment couldn’t exist forever, but Din wanted it to. It required no investment, no confrontation, it only offered _everything he wanted._ His heart ached for this so badly that he could feel it radiate into his back and shoulders; how cruel was it to be tempted like this, only to have it taken away?

Din continued to watch the scene before him, enjoying every second that was offered. You turned, shifting your shoulders to move onto your side, somehow being gentle with Grogu even in your sleep. You sighed, rolling your shoulders as you nestled further into the comfort of the bunk, and Din couldn’t stop his mind from racing at the thought of _what it would be like to wrap his body around yours, holding you close as you wriggled yourself even closer to him, every inch of your exposed skin making up for the hidden inches of his —_ and something stirred in his gut, tension spreading to his thighs and his abdomen as his mind ventured further —

_Surely it couldn’t hurt anything, and visualization was a better alternative than acting on the thoughts_ , he reasoned with himself. He pictured himself in the small space the bunk offered, maskless ( _because what could be the harm, since it only existed in a daydream?_ ) pressing himself into you, his thighs against yours. His heartbeat moved to his throat at the thought of feeling his stiff cock pressing against your ass, while the expanse of his broad shoulders dwarfed yours. He imagined wrapping his arms around your torso securely, palming the supple skin of your breasts, while he buried his exposed face into your neck to inhale the scent of you and press kisses into your neck.

He could feel himself growing stiff as the images became more fragmented and explicit, and his body called out desperately, positively whining for the dream that Din knew could never come true. _You were ethereal, beautiful, kind, and more than a nameless and faceless bounty hunter would deserve_.

Din was dragged out of his deepening reverie by the quiet cries of Grogu; shaking his head to try and dispel the graphic images of you, he stepped closer to the bunk and crouched down to the kid’s level. Din held out a hand to him, and Grogu’s little green fingers wrapped around just one of Din’s, and in this moment he felt so relieved to be home that he didn’t ever want to leave. Grogu began to twist around in your arms, trying to reach out for Din, but his movement dislodged the toy that was held in his other hand and at its sudden drop Grogu cried out loudly.

Din scrambled to return the toy to him before his cries could wake you up, but even his lightning-fast reflexes weren’t fast enough. Your eyes opened slowly, clearly having been roused from a deep sleep; and upon your eyes settling onto the beskar you smiled up at him lazily. _Fuck, that was a beautiful sight to come home to._ You whispered, voice cracking a bit as you woke up. “You’re early.”

Din laughed as he returned the toy to the wailing child’s grasp. “And you spoiled him.”

You laughed freely, the sound warming the air surrounding the three of you. “It’s an interesting story.”

“I’m sure it is.” Din watched the kid hug the toy to his chest. “I can take him, if you’d like to sleep.”

You shook your head and began to sit up in the bunk. “That’s alright. I know you need to get to Nevarro.”

Din’s stomach dropped through the floor and for a moment he feared it would be sealed into carbonite with the other corpses below. _You were ready to go._ He hadn’t wanted to be confronted with this truth just yet. He hadn’t wanted to hear that you were ready to part ways. He wanted you to stay, as complex as it was, because you had brought a kindness into his life that he didn’t want to move forward without.

Could he change your mind? Was that even possible, reasonable, responsible? _No, no, and no; but gods did he want it in a desperate way that scared him a little._

“It’s about two days travel time, from here to Nevarro.” He wasn’t being entirely honest, as the journey could be completed in about a day, but he gambled on the idea that you wouldn’t know differently. _He could take the scenic route._ You liked seeing the stars anyway, and he wouldn’t deny you the opportunity to see more of them.

You nodded, adjusting your sleep clothes that had been shifted, covering the inches of your skin that Din had just been fantasizing of. You pulled your hair up and secured it away from your face, and Din felt some measure of the tension leave his abdomen as he saw that the bruises from _before_ had vanished. He stood up, gathering a talkative Grogu into his arms and giving you space to finish waking up. Grogu held out the toy to Din, and he took it into his hand, examining the soft felted thing; he noticed what appeared to be bite marks on one of the feet of the wampa and assessed that at some point Grogu had tried to test the edibility of the toy. Din wasn’t surprised by this, thinking of several other things on the Razor Crest that now held the permanent evidence of the kid’s curiosity.

Din turned away from you to head towards the cockpit, a growing piece of him dreading the moment in which he would punch in the coordinates for Nevarro. The kid continued to be entertained by the plush toy, and Din tried desperately to shift his focus to the upcoming bounty exchange. The dead garbage stored beneath held a substantial price, and Din pondered what a fair price would be to offer you, given your involvement. Having entered in the codes for Nevarro, and choosing a delayed route, his focus shifted towards the math of the current bounties, your shares, upcoming expenses, and projected costs.

His mind wandered down this path for quite a while; in the background he heard you turn on the water in the fresher for a shower, and he rushed to shut down those images _fast —_

After the Razor Crest had been successfully piloted through the atmosphere of Coruscant, you stepped into the cockpit, wet hair, bare-faced, and clothed in tight black pants and a slouchy grey sweatshirt, the sleeves of which were threadbare. You looked so perfectly disheveled, so perfectly human and relaxed in comparison to the armor that shielded Din from any and all gazes. You didn’t seem to care much for whatever state Din saw you in, and that level of trust and comfort continued to pull at something in his heart.

The three of you sat in silence for a while.

“Do you want to hear about the toy?”

Din nodded. “How did he swindle you out of that?”

You laughed, eyes rolling. “I wouldn’t call it swindling.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Din paused, reflecting on the kid’s behavior. “Have you seen the bite marks on it?”

“Well, to be honest, that’s part of the reason I had to buy it.”

Din chuckled, imagining the kid grabbing and chewing on whatever he could get his hands onto in the Coruscant marketplace. He had dealt with that before, on more than one occasion.

“It took me a minute to see that he had started gnawing on it. The woman at the market was upset until she saw him, she thought he was cute. Then she offered it to me for a deal, but she also might’ve just been looking to make any profit possible off of damaged merchandise so I felt like I had to accept the offer.” You raised an eyebrow at Grogu, and he shrunk further into Din, continuing to hold his wampa close. “He seems to enjoy it though, so I don’t mind it. Kids need toys.”

Din wondered if you thought he was hurting the kid by not offering toys or different kinds of play. _He was trying his best, and here you were offering the kid the kind of connection and stimulation that Din couldn’t. Would it be fair to ask Grogu to say goodbye to you at this point?_

“She gave me something else, too.” You said hesitantly. You reached into your pants pocket, pulling out of all things, a sabacc card. You held the card out towards Din, offering it to him. On the card was a wheel; he was not an avid card player, but he was able to recognize it. “She said it represents luck, and changes to come. She said she saw... many challenges, in the future, but she said they would all work out for the better.” You continued to hold the card out for him, your intentions unmistakeable. You smiled nervously at him. “It might’ve just been superstitious garbage that she wanted to pass off to a tourist, but it... it felt true, at least.”

Din felt like he had a rock in his stomach when he reached out to take the card from you. It was no different from any sabacc card he had seen before, but the weight of it felt marginally different in his hand. He couldn’t recall ever receiving a gift before.

“I want you to keep it.”

Din’s hold on the card tightened reflexively at your words. Something in this gesture offered a glimmer of hope, hope that something about his anonymous and nomadic existence may entice you to stay a while, even though he had so little to offer you in return. He finally settled on a simple, “Thank you.”

***

The journey to Nevarro felt somehow infinite and brief at the same time. Upon his landing on the familiar planet, he felt his head and heart resume the battle that they had fought on Coruscant. He needed to remain cool and collected for the handoff to Karga, knowing that a sign of weakness would offer him an opportunity to pounce. He wouldn’t consider Karga a... friend, but after so many years that was a comfortable acquaintanceship that had developed between the two of them. However, Din still kept his guard up in business dealings.

Din intended to leave the kid on the ship as he did not want to risk any unnecessary exposure in an area that very well may be crawling with curious and intrusive eyes. He had asked you to accompany him for the exchange, seeing as how you participated in one of the bounties, and surprisingly you had agreed. Din was certain that this was still a sensitive subject for you, and he hoped that Karga would not be his usual conversational self, discussing the dirty and gossiping details of the bounties lives.

The thought of this being your last interaction together was something Din worked to suppress. You were a woman who had been freed from an endless barrage of abuse, and it was absurd of him to think that you needed or wanted him when you had an entire galaxy before you. He had no claim to you or your life, and your one business dealing tying you together was about to be wrapped up. Din had worked all morning to brace himself for the inevitable departure, and had watched the kid hug you even tighter than usual before you departed the ship, headed to the one bar in town to complete the exchange. He had to admit that _broke his fucking heart_ , seeing the kid watch you walk away. You walked along the dusty streets beside him, maintaining a maddening distance; but he knew it wouldn’t compare the emptiness he would feel on opposite sides of the galaxy. _Better get used to it._

You trailed along beside Din, attempting to further mask your expressions with each step that carried you forward. The lack of readability on your face didn’t do much to soothe Din’s nerves, and he wondered if this was how other people felt around him. Upon reaching the bar, Din opened the door for you and escorted you in, keeping you close to him as he knew there were bound to be some questionable characters present. Din hadn’t paid you your share yet, so he was still obligated to keep you safe. 

Karga stood up from his seat at the bar and shouted in excitement at Din’s arrival. Stumbling forward to clasp Din on the shoulder, his drunken eyes drifted towards Din’s company. “Seems you have a habit of picking up strays, Mando!” He laughed, palm slapping the sticky bar top. _Din hadn’t particularly missed this._

Ignoring Karga’s comment, Din plucked the four bounty pucks from his side and dropped them in front of Karga wordlessly. Karga’s eyebrows raised, and he wordlessly gestured to three men in the room who abruptly left, presumably to collect the bounties from the Razor Crest.

“Ah, Mando, you know you’d be getting more for these if they were alive,” Karga sighed. “Hazard of the job, I suppose, but that would be quite a pay raise.” Karga counted out the credits that were owed for the collective jobs, and proceeded to negotiate the next round of bounties. Din watched you out of the corner of his eyes, seeing that you never became particularly nervous in front of the bar patrons — or you were just very good at masking yourself, a surprise as Din had seen how expressive you had been within the past few days. Din couldn’t imagine the amount of work it took you to maintain that image, the facial expressions, the body language; behind the beskar, he had never had to account for any of those things, and wasn’t confident that he could if he ever had to try. Upon the completion of the negotiations, Din turned to leave the bar, a gentle touch on your arm indicating that it was time to go.

“Bring me a few live ones next time!” Karga called out in a complaining manner, as Din guided you out of the bar and back to the now-empty ship. This is the part that he had been dreading, the negotiations of goodbye. His heart felt as though it was scrambling in his chest, simultaneously throwing up walls and trying to prolong every last moment you had together. He committed the sight of you to memory, trying to make peace with the fact that this is all he would get to have to accompany him on his future endeavors; however his attempt of making peace fell short. _Din didn’t want this, didn’t want to say goodbye._

As you turned you large, sad eyes towards him, stopping in front of the ship, he felt a sharp and distinct crack in his resolve. Cursing inwardly, he tried to bite back the words that threatened to spill out of his mouth. He tried to stick his hands into the pockets of his pants but was greeted by the sensation of the sabacc card you had given to him earlier.

Din felt bold, for just a moment, reflecting on the journey that had brought him here.

You met when Din was desperate and in need of a healer, and you stepped in without a selfish thought. You were able to heal Grogu’s body in ways that he never expected, like an angel that had somehow ended up earthbound. You showed exceptional kindness, even after Din had obtained a glimpse of the horrible trauma that you had endured; and you continued to be kind to everyone you encountered, even after having been subjected to pain that Din couldn’t understand. You had provided support and a role that Grogu needed, that Din could never fill. You bought him toys and allowed him to be a child again, something that had previously been robbed from the two of you. You showed Din unconditional empathy, and had never once asked him for anything he had not offered to you willingly.

_He didn’t want to give this up. He wasn’t ready to let this go._

The sabacc card was still clasped tightly within his hand. _New beginnings. Luck._ Bracing himself for a bold admission, he took a deep breath, the beskar shifting above the sheer force of his inhalation.

“I don’t want you to leave,” He admitted.

“I don’t want to leave,” You said, at exactly the same time.

Din stared at you in shock, your face reflecting back what would certainly be the same expression underneath the beskar. _You wanted to stay._ Din couldn’t believe what he had just said, couldn’t believe what he had just heard. It felt like it must’ve been some sort of cruel trick or misunderstanding — could you _really_ want to stay with him? Din never would’ve guessed he would get so lucky. His heart was hammering beneath his beskar and his entire body felt as though it was blazing with happiness and surprise.

You both stared at each other in complete shock for a moment, trying to reconcile what had just taken place; it was a Hail Mary moment, saving you both at the last possible second. A warmth radiated between the two of you, wrapping around you and _damn near_ pushing you into one another; and finally, Din’s arms wrapped around you tightly in the way that he had been dreaming of for five days now. _It was everything he had wanted; you had given him everything he wanted, but had never thought he would deserve._ And now that the deadline had been removed, no longer hanging above your heads like an executioner’s axe, he had no intention or plans of letting you go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connect with me on Tumblr at dirty-holy-things.


	7. Chapter 7

_“... the way you saw the world, its colors and textures and sounds, I felt — I felt the way you thought, hoped, felt, dreamt. I felt I was dreaming and thinking and feeling with you. I dreamed what you dreamed, wanted what you wanted — and then I realized that truly I just wanted you.” - Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Prince_

The cool beskar of his breastplate was pressed against your cheek, as you wrapped your arms as tightly around him as you could. The jet pack strapped to him kept you from the last bit of contact that you were longing for, but you pushed that thought aside, choosing to focus instead on the weight of the words that had just been exchanged — they replayed on a loop in your head, elevating you higher and higher with each repetition — _I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want you to leave._

The vambrace on his arm was wrapped around the small of your back, his large gloved hands splayed out over your spine; you could feel each one of his fingers pressing into you, working to bring you impossibly closer to him. One gloved hand slid dangerously low down your back and instinctively you pressed your body even tighter against his, your hips driving you forward as you melded your thighs against him; breathing him in, you inhaled the familiar smell of leather, gunfire, and soap, the combination so heady and distinctly him, that you felt yourself getting dizzy. This moment was perfect, it was everything you had wanted since Mando agreed to your bounty deal; you hadn’t believed it would ever truly happen, and yet you were here. He was here, with you.

“She’s all fueled up,” a gruff voice shouted, startling you and Mando out of the moment you had found yourselves lost in; you craved that feeling of being weightless, timeless, and you had caught a moment of it, even without being in hyperspace. That had only made it feel even more real. You let go of the leather and beskar you had wrapped yourself up in, touching a hand to what was surely a burning red cheek. You laughed awkwardly, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself while you waited for a signal from Mando about what to do next. Fuck, what _did_ you do next? How would this admission change you both? Would it disrupt the fragile connection you had fought to sustain, or would it strengthen it, offering the reinforcement that you both needed?

You watched him pay the fee for refueling and he nodded his helmet towards you, gesturing for you to follow him back into the ship. The same ship you had committed to memory just hours before, thinking that you would never again see the industrial interior that had become your home. Your hands dragged along the smooth steel of the ship, grateful that you had returned to this place. _This really is home now,_ you thought to yourself, seeing as how you had been asked to stay. The bunk was home, the cockpit was home, its passengers were your _home._

Mando had moved into the cockpit of the ship, however you chose not to follow him, instead racing towards the cradle that held your sleeping friend. Scrambling to open it, your hands shaking in excitement at the reunion, you grabbed Grogu out of it cheerfully, spinning and bouncing him in your arms in celebration. Grogu giggled and burbled happily at you, and you could feel the sense of relief that radiated from him echoing within the walls of the ship.

As you had been lost in celebration you hadn’t noticed Mando walking back to the two of you; he rested casually against the doorframe of the cockpit, his hand resting on the hip that was jutting out. The gaze of his visor was trained on you and the kid, and he took in all of the joy and excitement that the moment held. He watched you touch your forehead to the kid’s, whispering an excited, “I get to stay!”

You balanced Grogu on your hip, an arm wrapped securely around him as he continued to babble contentedly. “I think we should discuss... an arrangement.” You started, nervously looking over at Din. “I don’t want to be dead weight, or a glorified babysitter. I can help... with bounties.” You forced the last words out of your throat, reminding yourself to be brave, to be bold, to trust in new beginnings as the merchant woman had said.

Mando’s helmet tilted towards the side, his body still resting casually against the doorframe, never betraying any of the thoughts that existed behind the visor. He waited for you to elaborate.

“Karga said the reward for live ones are higher than those that are dead.”

Mando nodded.

“I may be able to help with that.” You said, a suggestive undertone to your voice, hoping that he would pick up what you were hinting at — you thought you might die of embarrassment on the spot if you had to spell it out for him.

“You’re willing to act as...” he paused, trying to determine the right choice of words. “Bait?”

You sighed ever so slightly, thankful that he understood. “Yes. I can.. ah, entice and disarm them. Which would make it easier for you to bring them in alive.”

“Do you think that’s safe?” He asked, his voice holding a tone of uncertainty.

That was a fair consideration. Having just freed yourself from one manipulative situation, were you ready to throw yourself back into it? _Ah, but this time you would have Mando protecting you.You trusted him to keep you safe, just like he had on Chandrila, on Coruscant, on Nevarro._

“I trust that you can keep me safe, as I lure them into a trap.” You were proud of how sure and confident your voice sounded.

He was quiet for a moment, pondering the implications of involving another person in his job. Not every bounty would necessitate such an approach, but the thought of the pay rise for live deliveries was enticing, even with an assumption that you would receive a cut of the profits.

Mando nodded slowly, coming to terms with the proposed arrangement. “Not every bounty needs such an approach, but for those that do, what do you think would be a fair cut of the reward?”

You really hadn’t even thought of that; you had offered this simply as a way to extend your time spent with him and avoid any buildup of resentment or boredom. Your pursed your lips, having little to no idea of what would be fair to ask. You settled on an estimate and decided to throw it out there to test the waters. “Thirty percent?”

He was quiet for a moment before eventually nodding, and you found yourself once again wishing that the beskar wasn’t hiding the man beneath it. You couldn’t read him like you could Grogu, and you received very few physical cues; were you lowballing yourself and he wanted to keep the profits? Were you overestimating your actual participation and value, and he simply didn’t want to cause a confrontation? You reminded yourself that you had chosen to continue with him as a companion, having known beforehand that he was not the most loquacious and you would have to exist within these parameters.

Mando retrieved the credits that had been paid out for the bounties, and began counting them out silently; you watched him, curious as to what he was doing — _was he worried Karga had shorted him? —_ and then he stepped towards you, holding more money than you had ever seen in your life, and sat it down next to you. “Thirty percent.”

Your mouth gaped open at the sight. You had no idea what you would ever do with that kind of money; Orron was certainly wealthy, but you very rarely were afforded your own money, as he had insisted on total oversight of your financial matters. Most times, you were genuinely penniless, and he would brush you off, insisting that he would take care of you. Looking back now, you understood that by ensuring you were flat broke, he was also ensuring that you could never afford to leave. But now you had your own money, more than you had ever seen in a lifetime; so many opportunities were now open to you, and yet the only thing that you wanted was to continue to travel in the old ship, with the brooding Mandalorian and his childish companion. _And you had the power to make that decision for yourself._

You grabbed the credits, feeling a rush of adrenaline to your head as you felt the weight of them in your hands. “What do I owe you for travel?” You asked breathlessly, palming the money nervously.

He shook his head. “At your rate of thirty percent, we’ll call it even for travel and basic supplies. The rest is yours, to do with it what you will.”

_You could buy yourself new clothes. You could get toys for the kid. You could eat at an actual restaurant, without having to worry about saddling someone with the bill._ You understood that your actual opportunities for this would be slim, as Mando didn’t seem to be the vacation type, but even the faintest idea of being able to make your own choices and be in control was intoxicating.

Another part of you wanted to broach the subject of travel arrangements. The kid came with his own bed, but seeing as how neither of you had originally intended on your extended stay, you wondered how this matter would be addressed. It had worked well enough for the past few days of sleeping in opposite shifts, but a thought creeped over your shoulder and into your mind, wondering if there may come a time when you would _share_ the small bed. _You thought about the man that was under all of those layers of beskar and leather, thought about what it would be like to feel the heat of your limbs tangled together_ — and then the mental image of the helmet attached to him sent your imagination into a crashing halt, almost as if you had crashed a speeder into a concrete wall. It was stupid and irresponsible of you to think that you would ever find yourself in that context, and you needed to shut it down before your heart became invested in a pipe dream.

Turning your focus back to the man in front of you, and the business at hand, you cleared your mind of the heady images that it was clouded with. “What can you tell me about the next bounty?”

Mando nodded his helmet toward the cockpit, wordlessly instructing you to follow him. You secured the kid who was tucked into your arm, noticing that he had dropped his wampa. “Pick up your toys, please.” You said sternly, raising an eyebrow at him. He looked at you, confused, as you did not set him down to allow him to grab it. Then he laughed, sticking his little green hands out to levitate the toy back to his grasp. “Good job, Grogu. Thank you.” You rubbed one of his ears affectionately, stepping into the cockpit of the Razor Crest. You strapped him into the makeshift safety seat that Mando had constructed for him, and took your place in the seat to Mando’s left.

You watched him pull up the image of a map, and you attempted to determine what exactly you were looking at. However, you were entirely lost; you had never been taught any of this information, and while it certainly looked pretty and intriguing, you had no clue what any of it meant for your travels. You stared into the visor of Mando’s mask, a befuddled and curious look on your face, hoping that he would choose this moment to elaborate.

He pointed at a planet that was illuminated on the map projection. “We’ll be heading to Canto Bight, on the planet Cantonica. It’s a popular vacation spot and a hot bed for gambling. Sometimes, people get in over their heads. Bet more than they can. We’re going after a man named Lidan Zhalto.”

You had never heard the name before, but you were never particularly up to date about anything outside of your own town. “And Zhalto, will you need help bringing him in? Is he worth more alive?”

Mando nodded. “He owes a lot of powerful people a lot of money. Can’t get much money out of a dead body. A living one can work, or offer information.”

_That made sense,_ you reasoned; _Orron had taken a similar approach, which led to the many individuals that crossed through the back room of your old shop._ And you certainly felt better knowing that with your help, more people would be able to continue on living. Maybe not living in the best of circumstances, but you may yet find a way to atone for the blood on your hands; you wanted to believe that you could be better. “I have heard that Canto Bight is quite a lavish town,” you said, an eyebrow raised as you surveyed the clean but dismal aesthetic state that you were in. “I will need to... prepare, adequately.”

Mando remained silent as he punched in the coordinates, and you saw the projected time for arrival. You should be there within 7 hours, just enough time to either grow bored or sleepy, and you were not sure as to which may happen first or which would be the better choice. Sinking further into the seat, you thought about what exactly would be needed to transform yourself into an enticing lure; _you were due for a haircut, more glamorous clothes, and possibly some makeup._ You didn’t want to delay Din’s usual progress on a job, and wondered if you would be able to seek out some cosmetic services while he tracked down where Zhalto would be for the night. You were grateful for the stash of credits that you now had, knowing that you would be investing some of your earnings when you landed at Canto Bight.

“Do you need to rest?” Mando asked gently.

You shrugged, feeling somewhat indifferent. Your body was still enjoying the last vestiges of the adrenaline and oxytocin from your shared acknowledgement of needs on Nevarro; but you also understood that when these feelings wore off, you would likely be exhausted.

You shook your head, deciding that it would be more beneficial to ride this emotional high for the next few hours while the Razor Crest hurtled through hyperspace and your assistance was not needed to keep the ship functional. Your eyes felt tired and your lower back was aching a bit, but you had certainly been in worse states before. “You can rest, if you need it.” You offered, knowing that it had been quite a while since Mando’s last shift of sleeping in the small bunk.

Mando’s silence seemed as though it may stretch into eternity. You had no idea what he was thinking, what he wanted, what his next move may be. He turned in his seat to face you and the kid, who had previously extricated himself from his safety seat, preferring to drift back to sleep in your arms. “It seems we all need to rest before arriving.”

Your heartbeat quickened as your mind began to race; _what did this mean_? Would he sleep in the cockpit, leaning back in the seats that were sure to grow uncomfortable? Would you sleep on the floor with the spare blanket?

_Would you sleep next to each other, sharing the small space offered by the bunk?_ That seemed impossible, a cruel enticement offered by the universe only to highlight your unfulfilled desires.

_How would you fit together, beskar and bodies?_

In a surprising turn of events, Mando spoke first. “The space in the bunk is small, but... I don’t think it would be too uncomfortable, at least until we can, ah, see about any additional arrangements.” He cleared his throat nervously, the only indication of his feelings that you received.

Each beat of your heart felt as though it was seconds away from punching itself through your rib cage upon hearing his offer. The very cells of your body screamed out _yes,yes, YES!_ At his offer, although you worked to maintain your breathing and not indicate to him that you were so desperately wanting this. “That would be alright,” you offered, hoping that the forced steadiness of your voice would not betray you. “For, ah, tonight.”

Mando nodded at you quickly, and you noticed that he specifically did not look your way for several minutes. Once the ship was successfully hurtling through hyperspace, he stood up from the seat; following his frame upwards, your eyes continued up until you were staring once again at the blanket of stars overhead. He watched your eyes stare up in wonder, the magic of it all still not having dissipated a bit.

After having your fill of hyperspace, you stood up from the seat, being careful not to dislodge or disrupt the sleeping child in your arms. You passed by Mando wordlessly, not sparing him another glance, hoping that this forced sense of casualty would be believed; the ship humming beneath you, you transferred the sleeping kid to his cradle flawlessly, tucking his wampa underneath his stubby arm and wrapping a blanket around him. Feeling too nervous to acknowledge him, you continued to largely ignore the man that your body was screaming out for, as you grabbed your sleep clothes and disappeared into the fresher.

The mirror showed you a flushed and somewhat disheveled version of yourself; turning on the sink, you splashed cool water onto your face, hoping to calm the redness that had taken up residence there. Before changing fully into your sleep clothes you thought to pee, not wanting to have to wake up and potentially disrupt the fantasy you had already projected onto the bunk and your shared sleeping experience. You also brushed your teeth, not wanting to seem... presumptuous, but also not wanting to have any general odors. Before stepping out, you brushed the small tangled knots out of your hair, pulling pieces into place that would hopefully appear flattering but effortless. You had never cared much about your appearance around him, and it was almost comical that _this_ was the moment you chose to care about; while you would both be sleeping.

Stepping out of the fresher, you were greeted by an overwhelmingly black darkness; thankfully, you knew the bunk was close to the fresher otherwise you would have been largely blind and lost within the expanse of the ship. You thought of how silly it was that you invested any time on your appearance, since it was so dark that little to no sight was possible. You had kept lights on before while sleeping, but it seemed that Mando enjoyed the darkness. A piece of you had hoped to see more of the man you would be sleeping with — _fuck, you idiot, stop thinking like that —_

Your feet carried you forward unsteadily, your arms outstretched as you guided yourself towards the bunk, hoping to avoid running into anything in the process. As you drew closer, a hand reached out from the bunk to rest on your hip, guiding you forwards to the edge. You felt the grip from the hand and recognized that it was not gloved; it was exposed skin, pulling you closer towards him.

Your heartbeat was echoing throughout almost every inch of your body at this time; you were certain that if you stopped to listen, you could hear it echoing throughout the ship too. Extending your arms out, your hands landed on broad shoulders — _no armor —_ that allowed you to guide yourself into the bunk. You rested your hips onto the edge and swung your legs up and around, feeling the length of them pressing into his, distinctly noticing that they were freed from the usual beskar that kept them protected. You felt his underclothes against you and your heart raced so fast it likely could’ve kept pace with the ship moving at light speed.

You tried to pace your breathing as the rest of your body came to lay down next to his, your face moving to rest on his arm that was outstretched beneath you. You felt something burning with every inch of your skin that brushed up against him, and a devilish part of you compelled your body into moving even closer to him, an arm reaching up to drape across his waist as you shifted to become more comfortable. His shirt had shifted up around his waist, and your hand _might’ve_ brushed against the warm skin of his lower back. _Fuck, you wanted to touch more of him._ You forced your hand to stay in place though, terrified that any sudden or unwarranted movement might make this moment end right as it had started.

It seemed like you hadn’t breathed for minutes when his arm came to wrap around your waist, pulling your body tighter into his. _He wants you close. Wants to hold you._ As he shifted to bring you closer against him, you felt your forehead bump into the cool beskar that protected his face, and you winced inwardly, imagining how uncomfortable it must be to try and sleep in a helmet. You would never disrespect his faith and ask him to violate its most basic tenant, but a idea crossed your mind that may offer an agreeable compromise.

“If you want,” you started breathlessly, nervously; “If you want to take off the helmet, that’s alright. I can’t see anything.” You felt his body grow tense against yours, put on edge by your suggestion. “And even if I could, I wouldn’t look.” You buried your face deeper into his chest, hoping that you hadn’t offended him.

After a long moment, you felt his arms pull away from you. _Fuck, oh fuck, I fucked up, I should have just kept my mouth shut —_

And then you heard a click as his helmet released, and he pulled it away, setting it down gently onto the floor below you. Your heart soared as your adrenaline rushed, knowing how much he must trust you to feel comfortable enough to do this. His arms returned to wrap around you, and you dutifully kept your head down, shifting further into him as your arms wrapped tighter around him. _You never wanted to leave this moment._

The warmth that the two of your bodies created was beginning to relax you both, despite your mind working overtime to burn each and every sensation into your mind, reveling in the contact, the security, the unequivocal trust of this moment. You felt yourself beginning to grow more and more tired, relaxing into the bed and into the arms of the man who held you.

While you were hovering in that space between sleeping and waking, you reached a hand up to cradle the face that you had been so desperately wanting to watch, a soft goodnight passing through your lips with an exhale. You felt a strong jawline, the stubble of two-day facial hair, and the smoothness of his cheek; a half-formed image of the man in your head, it only confirmed what you already knew — he was impossibly handsome, and it only made you want to see more. But as you had done so many times before, you were thankful for what had been shared, given, offered to you by a man who had constructed a life of isolation. _He was letting you in, slowly._

As the world around you faded into dreams, you almost thought you felt lips pressing a soft kiss onto the crown of your head, a barely discernible _goodnight_ echoing softly within your ears. The unfiltered voice sounded different from the one you had become accustomed to, but whether this was real or not real, you reveled in the perceived affection and felt yourself sink into sleep, the voice echoing endlessly into your dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connect with me on Tumblr at dirty-holy-things.


	8. Chapter 8

_“I was Lazarus, the world given to me again.” - Louise Gluck, Departure_

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

You grumbled at the intrusive noise, and tried to nestle down further into the bed to escape it. Tried to pull the blanket tighter around you.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

You weren’t able to move any further away from the sound, as two muscular arms had you pinned in place against a chest that was still rising and falling peacefully.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

You whined, trying to tuck your head in closer to the man’s shoulder, trying to block out the sound that meant this moment, this contact, would shortly be coming to an end. And you had no idea when, or if, you may be offered this opportunity again.

Your movements and sounds of dismay seemed to have been the thing to awaken Mando, rather than the device projecting the alarm that you now wanted _so_ _desperately_ to crush into the ground. You felt him gently rub his cheek against the top of your head, breathing slowly and deeply; your mind ventured back to the previous night, faintly recalling the sensation of a kiss, and Mando’s current actions reinforced your hope that what you had felt, had been really, truly, real.

Sleep was rapidly becoming the least of your priorities as you concentrated on feeling every sensation that this moment offered you; based on the way his cheek drug across you, you knew you were right last night when you assessed that there was some measure of facial hair, and you could feel the chiseled jawline that you wanted nothing more than to kiss. Even with having little to no image of what he looked like underneath the armor, you were confident that if you ever saw his face, it would be the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Mando began to pry himself away from you, slowly, as if he didn’t really want to. Your arms relaxed their grip on him, letting him have control over the situation, knowing that he was likely feeling very nervous about how exposed he was with you. You pointedly rolled so your face was pressed directly down into the pillow, and allowed him time to proceed out of the bed unseen.

He climbed out of the bed with a grunt, and you heard his feet connect with the floor; then, you heard the beskar helmet being moved around and likely being returned to its typical place. “It’s, you’re — well, ah, it’s — it’s alright now.” He stumbled over his words. “Thank you.”

The moment had ended; the helmet was back on, he was placing his armor back onto himself, and you would have to return to acting as... business associates. _It couldn’t last forever,_ you reminded yourself. Sitting up from the bunk, your eyes adjusted to the faint amount of light that had illuminated the area, and then you saw him.

Black pants clung to his muscled legs, but they had not yet been covered by all of the additional layers of armor and gear that kept him protected. You could still feel the imprint of those thickly muscled thighs pressing into yours from the night before, and your mouth went dry at the thought. You remembered how you had shifted your hips toward his, seeking every inch of contact you would be allowed, and how despite the few layers of clothing that separated you, you could still tell just how strong and powerful he was.

Your gaze traveled up from his thighs to the waist of his pants, and _holy shit —_ you saw a broad, tanned, muscled chest that sent heat waves through your whole body. You saw the sharp lines of his stomach curving downwards across his squared hips, disappearing behind the black fabric that covered the remainder of his body. Continuing to stare, you felt a blazing hot pressure spread down your chest and into your stomach as you saw the dark hair there — you were thankful that you were still sitting because your head felt suddenly dizzy at this brazen display of skin.

The helmet covered his face, as you had expected, but your heart was beating in your throat as you greedily stared at him, watching his muscles flex and move as he finished changing out ofhis sleep shirt and continued dressing. He turned his sculpted back to you, and the sight of it nearly made you come undone _right then and there_. His shirt came down and covered the expanse of skin that you had been allowed to see all too quickly, and as he moved to continue dressing you tried to shake away the sight. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to shift your focus to something other than the explicit images that were filling your head.

_This will absolutely complicate things. How the fuck are you supposed to share a bunk with him again after this? One night and you’re already wrecked? How are you supposed to act like a professional?_

You pressed your hands into your face, dragging them downwards to try and wipe your mind. The thought of him seeing you like this, disheveled and wrecked just at the sight of him, was embarrassing and it eventually won out over the primal urges you were feeling. You finally stood up, moving to gather your clothes for the day and prepare for this next adventure. You were about to lure a dangerous man into your grasp, you needed to keep a clear head about you. Couldn’t have your head clouded with thinly formed daydreams of a man that _you_ _were working with. Gods, act like you have some sense._

Quickly dressing in the privacy of the fresher, you cleaned yourself up from the night before, ensuring that you looked presentable enough to mingle among the other visitors to Canto Bight. Feeling alright about your appearance, you exited to find that Mando had disappeared from the cabin of the ship, likely to the cockpit as you had to be arriving before long. Not wanting to face him just yet, after such an... intimate, evening, you decided to check on the kid first and make sure that he was alright.

Opening the cradle, you saw that he was still sleeping with the wampa tucked underneath his arm. You smiled at the sight, pleased that he had taken to both you and the toy so well. There was something heartening about being chosen to be loved; it was a foreign feeling and yet you welcomed it. Now exposed to the sounds of the ship, Grogu woke up with a small grumble; large eyes opening to look at you, he held out his hands to you, wanting to be picked up and cuddled. You laughed under your breath, understanding how Grogu was feeling. “You and me both, kid,” you responded, thinking back to the heat and security of the shared bunk that you were now missing. “Let’s get you something to eat, huh?”

Grogu nodded at you, taking the leg of the stuffed toy out of his mouth. You laughed at his insistent curiosity about the world around him. _When was the last time you explored without worry, pursuing your own ideas recklessly?_ You supposed your recent change of life could be an example, as you carried forward with no guiding goal or plans. It was both a daunting and exciting prospect, as you now had the agency, the power, the independence to choose the direction your life would go in — even if that direction may not be mapped out.

The kid’s stomach grumbled and you recalled how Mando had given you a stack of credits for extra food on Coruscant; you hadn’t thought you would need them, but you were ever so wrong. He was being truthful when he told you that the kid had a massive appetite, and you thought back to all of the wonderful foods that the two of you had shared together during Mando’s departure. You pulled out one of the cookies that you had bought while at the market in Coruscant; you handed it to the kid and then upon second thought grabbed one for yourself as well. _Would Mando want one_? You wondered how and when he ate, suddenly realizing that you hadn’t seen it within the past... however many days. You decided not to bring him one just yet, but you would extend the offer and let him know where to find them.

You carried the kid into the cockpit, watching him happily munch on the sugary sweet held within his three little fingers. Settling him into his designated seat, he didn’t even acknowledge the transition as he was engrossed with the treat. You sat down in what you had assumed to now be ‘ _your_ ’ seat, and broke off a piece of the cookie, eating slowly and pointedly avoiding making any eye contact with the slim visor of the helmet. Luckily, it didn’t turn to you, as he was laser-focused on navigating the ship.

As you descended through the atmosphere, you slouched casually into the seat, finally turning to face him so as to extend the offer of food. “There’s more of these,” you started, gesturing with the cookie. “Coruscant had more food than I had ever seen before, and me and the kid picked these out together.”

Mando remained quiet, and you almost wondered if he had even heard you. Was he feeling uncomfortable from last night? Or this morning? You winced inwardly, chastising yourself for letting your desires drive a wedge into the tentative and fragile relationship you had developed. _He didn’t ask you to be his girlfriend,_ you thought to yourself nastily, _He didn’t ask you to stay so he could fuck you. It’s a business dealing._

Sitting in your shame and embarrassment, you watched through the glass as you descended onto a new planet. Within a standard week you had already seen more new planets than you had in your entire life. You told yourself to be grateful for the travel, for the money, for the kid, rather than moaning about some _faceless stranger._

You felt the need to do something to dispel the awkward tension that you could sense in the room. Clearing your throat, you decided that as business partners, it would be appropriate to discuss the current business at hand. “Do you know where Zhalto is projected to be tonight?”

Mando shook his head. “I understand that he can usually be found at the racetrack during the day. I’ll keep an eye on him and see what casino he ends up lurking around this evening.” Mando fished a comm out from storage and handed it to you, the gaze of his visor landing on you for the briefest of moments, and you felt pinned underneath it. “Once I’ve got eyes on him, I’ll let you know where to go. What’s your angle on him?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, knowing that it was relatively simple in its brilliancy. “If he’s like most men I know, they’re predatory and desperate to get laid. Wink at them from across the bar and they’ll just come to you.”

A low hmm came through the modulator. “It’s that easy for you?”

“Most times,” you said with a sigh. “They’ll take just about any invitation that’s offered. Have a drink, suggest a private place, and they follow at your heels.”

Despite not being afforded any physical cues, you still felt Mando become unnerved at your words. “I’ll bring something to protect myself with,” you offered, hoping to dispel some of his apparent uncomfortability. “And I don’t actually plan on sleeping with him or anything,” you added, observing that your previous words had done very little to calm him. “You should be able to bring him in without much of a fight.”

The silence stretched on between you, and at this point you were honestly clueless about what was bothering him. You weren’t sure if it was the night spent together, if it was concern for your safety, concern for what could happen with you and Zhalto; and knowing he wasn’t one to elaborate on feelings you knew you likely wouldn’t get an answer from him. You leaned further back into the seat with a sigh, choosing to endure the rest of the descent in silence. It seemed to be the better alternative to... whatever you had done to upset him before. _Best way to get yourself out of a hole is to stop digging it._

Upon landing, he stalked out of the cockpit and off of the ship entirely, leaving you and the kid’s head spinning with his abrupt departure. _Gods, what was upsetting him? Maybe you had violated some unspoken boundary and he would just leave you here in Canto Bight_. Your mind was starting to run in panicked circles when he returned, his shoulders having relaxed marginally and you took that as a cue that you weren’t being kicked out just yet. He strolled casually over to a part of the ship that you had not explored just yet, and gestured with two fingers for you to follow him.

You stepped into what was certainly the most impressive armory you had ever witnessed. You had thought Orron’s personal arsenal bordered on psychotic, and here you were surrounded by more instruments of destruction than you could have imagined. The sight of the weapons unnerved you, bringing your mind back to all of the times that you found yourself coated in blood, trying desperately to undo the damage caused by these very same sorts of weapons. You felt yourself starting to get sweaty and lightheaded, and you leaned against the doorframe, seeing as it was the only safe place to do so.

Mando surveyed the vast array of weapons, and carefully selected two of them; a curved dagger, about the length of your forearm, with formidable teeth, and a small blaster that was just barely larger than the size of your hand. He also grabbed a leather knife sheath and a holster; stepping towards you, he gestured for you to take both of the weapons. You tried to swallow, but your throat had closed up from nervousness. Your hands shook when the weight of the weapons landed in them, the feeling of the cold metal against your skin making you recoil slightly.

And if you thought you had been nervous before, _Gods_ did you become nervous when suddenly Mando sank to his knees in front of you. The visor peered up at you, not having far to look given your substantial size difference. He paused for a moment, waiting to see if you would stop him, before he reached around and underneath your thigh, working to strap the knife’s sheath securely to you. He reached up to pluck the knife from your shaking hand, placing it securely in the sheath that was now cradling your thigh. He moved to tighten the strap, sighing. “This knife,” he said with a grunt, grabbing your inner thigh and pulling the sheath into place — _and fuck, the way you ached between your legs —_ “This knife is serrated. That means if you use it, it will _hurt,_ and it will be tough to remove. You’ll have to put your weight into it.”

He was still on his knees in front of you and you were certain that you hadn’t breathed in minutes. You could still feel the ghost of his hand on the inside of your thigh and you were absolutely dizzy with shock and pleasure at the touch; your body felt like it was being licked by flames, blazing wherever his hands had landed.

He rose from the floor and you felt yourself exhale shakily. You tried to blame it on the weapons, but it was a pathetic attempt at lying to yourself. You were, however, still entirely terrified by the blaster that you held in your hand, never having touched a thing like this before. He must’ve sensed some measure of your nerves, as he looked down at the blaster and back up to you. “Do you know how to use this?” He asked, blessedly relieving you of the weight of the blaster you held. You shook your head. “Shit. We don’t have time for any real lesson, but you’re not going out into this unarmed. If someone were to hurt you—“ you realized you had never heard him swear before, and you could hear his voice crack despite the modulator. “Fuck. Alright, this is the safety. Keep this on unless you are intending to fire. When you do, release the safety. You’ll pull the trigger and release. There will be some recoil so don’t be surprised. This one’s small, so you should be able to handle it, but don’t get brave with any long distances. Wouldn’t want you to miss and hit something else.”

You nodded, still feeling lightheaded and disoriented from the weapons, the touch, the lesson, the crack in his voice that whispered _he cares about you._ Keeping the safety on, Mando set the gun down to turn his attention towards the holster. He stepped close to you once again, but this time he reached the holster around behind your waist, subtly using it to pull you closer to him under the guise of fastening it securely across your hips. Tilting your chin up, you were mere inches away from the beskar helmet, and this felt like _the moment_ where a kiss was supposed to happen, but you were barricaded by the beskar. Your eyes flitted back and forth on the visor, trying to gauge any sort of response, wondering what color his eyes would be underneath there—

And he buckled the holster on, tugging it slightly, just enough to bring you back to the moment in which you realized you were armed to the teeth with more weapons than you had ever had in your lifetime. “Is all of this... necessary?” You asked, your hands reaching to touch the unfamiliar leather that was bound around you. While it was nerve-wracking, there was also something sexy and intimate about wearing _his_ gear, carrying _his_ weapons. _Stop it,_ you chastised yourself. _Cool it, before you make an ass out of yourself._

“I would hope it’s not necessary. But I’d rather be wrong than you be unprotected.” Stepping back to survey his work, he decided that it was appropriate and turned to leave the armory. “You mentioned before that you would need to handle some business in town before tonight?”

You nodded, following him into the hull where the kid was contentedly chewing on his wampa. You raised an eyebrow at him, and his wide eyes grew even wider as he removed the toy from his mouth. “If you can’t play with it nicely, I may have to take it away.”

You thought you heard Mando chuckle at your disciplinary tone. Clearly he didn’t seem to mind you parenting the kid, taking care of him, making sure he behaved. _Maybe you should look into getting him a toy that was appropriate to chew on,_ you mused. “I’d be willing to bet a hundred credits that this little terror ran the show before I got here,” you joked. “Grogu, do you want to go to town with me? Or would you prefer to go with Mando?”

Grogu looked back and forth between you and Mando, trying to decide what to do; he whined, so you focused in on trying to understand what he was wanting. _He wanted the three of you to stay together._

“No, he has to work, and I have to go to town. We can’t all spend the day together, I’m sorry.” You saw the disappointment written on the kid’s face.

Mando stepped towards the two of you, and scooped the kid up into his arms. “I’ll take him with me for the day, it shouldn’t be anything exciting. Just observation.”

You nodded, being somewhat grateful for the opportunity to explore and shop on your own. You checked to see that you had the comm with you, and grabbed what you guessed would be enough credits to buy your lunch and some passable clothing for the evening. Pausing, you grabbed a few more, deciding that it wouldn’t hurt to spoil yourself a bit. You waited to see what Mando would do next, waiting for some sort of cue to disembark from the ship — waiting to see what today’s goodbye would look like.

“You may want to grab a jacket,” Mando suggested. “Canto Bight is a relatively safe place, but having weapons on display might get you some unwanted attention.” He crossed the room to grab your jacket, holding it out for you to slip into it. You did so wordlessly, nervously. You pulled the jacket close around you, being thankful that it largely masked the protection that you carried with you.

You followed him out of the ship, into the bright and bustling city that stretched before you. The curved architecture of the buildings that made up the cityscape were unlike any you had seen before, but they were beautiful, and the sound of the ocean faintly echoed around you; that, at least, was a familiar concept on a new world. You had no real idea of where you were going, but you trusted that in a touristy city, you wouldn’t have a hard time getting someone to direct you towards a place to spend your money. A few feet of distance separated you from Mando and the kid, and you closed the distance, reaching out for the kid first to rub behind his ears. You bent down to his level, grinning at him as you said goodbye. “Keep him in line, alright?” The kid giggled and you gave his little green hand a squeeze before turning your attention back to the man in front of you. Once again, you stood here in front of him, clueless and wordless, searching for a crumb of context that would give you some insight about what he was thinking.

This time, Mando was the first to speak. “I’ll see you soon.”

You smiled up at him, thankful for his bravery in initiating the goodbye. “I’ll see you soon.”

You continued to stand there for several moments as the man and the kid turned and disappeared into the crowd. With a deep breath, you stepped forward into this new world, excited by the independence that it offered you. The city was unlike the others that you had seen, each world containing new and exciting sights that you never could have dreamed of. You strolled down various streets with no real destination or intention in mind; all you knew was that right now your stomach was beginning to growl, and you decided that the first cafe you came across would be as good an option as any.

You sat down in one of the chairs, and a waiter rushed over to you, producing glassware and a carafe of sparkling water seemingly from nowhere. You thanked him and asked him to bring you whatever the day’s special may be; he nodded and disappeared back into the cafe, and you sat there basking in the sunlight like your cat used to do.

Lunch passed in relative silence as you watched the rich and fabulous mingle through the streets, often accompanied by droids that carried precariously stacked boxes and bags full of the day’s purchases. You watched the women closely, trying to gauge what was appropriate and stylish here; after feeling you had a decent understanding, you paid your bill — _how absurd that you were able to do this all on your own —_ and your feet carried you back into the street. You saw a particularly fabulous looking woman head into a store whose doors were plated in gold; assuming she was as good a reference as any, you followed along behind her, hoping that your simple appearance didn’t upset or alert anyone that you didn’t belong here.

It was more glamorous inside than you ever could have imagined. Chandeliers dripped with crystals, gold covered nearly every surface, and the heavy floral perfume permeated the air around you so thickly that you could taste it. Someone who you assumed to be a saleswoman approached you, likely concerned about your appearance in her store. “Can I help you?” She asked quietly.

“Oh yes,” you smiled back at her brilliantly. “I was sent out here with all of these credits, but I have no idea how to even start to spend them.” You flashed the money in front of her, and you saw a glint in her eyes that signaled her entire personality was about to change in the name of making a sale. “I have a party to go to tonight, but as you can see I’m woefully unprepared.”

She cleared her throat and signaled for a droid to come to her. It immediately began measuring you, and you became nervous as it lifted your coat to reveal the weapons that Mando had strapped to you. However, the credits you had shown must’ve been enough for the woman to overlook them as she didn’t even spare them a second glance. “If you’d follow me, I think we’d be more than capable of getting you prepared for your event.”

“Oh, are you sure?” You trilled, a sickly sweet tone covering your voice. “I need something done with my hair, my nails...”

“And makeup,” she barked, her nose wrinkling slightly at you. You glared at her for just the briefest of moments before turning the full wattage of your fake smile back to her.

“Yes, that too.” You cooed, following her back into the store.

The next hours were spent being passed back and forth between stylists and droids, being administered a variety of beauty treatments. You enjoyed every second of it despite the way they whispered behind you; at the end of the day, they were still working for your money, and you were being in pampered in ways you didn’t know were possible.

It wasn’t until you were slipping into the gown that had been tailored to you, that you caught more than a passing glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You almost didn’t recognize the woman staring back at you, and you wondered for a moment if these women were capable of actual magic?

When they handed you the bill for the day’s services, you paid it without a second thought. That kind of power felt intoxicating and heady, and when the woman who initially greeted you brought you a glass of champagne, you accepted it gratefully, thanking her for all of the work she had coordinated. You also asked her to gather a respectable and functional wardrobe to have delivered to the ship, deciding that you would prefer to leave your old clothing behind. She nodded with a smile, pinching your elbow gently as she ushered you out of the store.

Now, your belongings were housed in a sparkling bag; the dress and the bag had been modified to largely conceal the weapons Mando had sent you with, and you retrieved the comm, ready to let Mando know that the show could begin. “I’m ready when you are,” you spoke, sending the message along.

A response came moments later, your heart racing as you heard his voice. “Seaside casino. Be there in an hour.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connect with me on Tumblr at dirty-holy-things.


	9. Chapter 9

_Naming is a difficult and time consuming process; it concerns essences, and it means power. But on the wild nights who can call you home? Only the one who knows your name. - Jeanette Winterson, Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit_

Din had reviewed the plan with you at least four times on your way to the casino, needing to make sure that you would unambiguously stay safe. From where he had taken up residence in a secluded section of the upper level of the lavish casino, he could see just about everywhere; and yet despite the shared plan and his superb vantage point he still felt incredibly nervous and worried for you. He had never brought anyone onto a job like this before. He had certainly never used anyone as... bait. Fuck, Din hated how that sounded, _hated the idea that some degenerate gambler may get to touch you._ Din tried to remind himself that you had both planned this well, and that you were capable of taking care of yourself. You knew exactly who you were looking for, knew his typical evening routine, even knew his preferred alcohols; and Din had been reassured that you were still fully armed. You had also let him know to look out for you in a green dress, and every flash of green in his field of vision drew his attention, hoping to see you; once you were in his sights again, he could keep you safe. A velvet green suit caught his eye first, and then a Twi’lek’s lekku, every slightly green-toned thing pulling his attention in a myriad of directions.

The responsible part of his brain was trying desperately to pull the reigns on the connection he was developing with you; it was irrational, illogical, and truthfully put both of you in more danger than if you didn’t care for one another. The kid had been enough of a weakness, and you served to be an additional chip in his armor, exposing him to greater opportunities for joy and grief than he had ever known before. The opportunities that you offered him though — _gods, they were everything he wanted, everything he never even knew he had wanted._

And when you had offered him the opportunity to remove his helmet, he trusted you. You had never overstepped a boundary, never asked him for anything — you had only offered trust and kindness, and for all of the beskar and blasters he had at his disposal, he felt more safe than ever when he was stripped completely bare with you. For all of the interactions he had with women in his lifetime, he had never once removed his helmet in their presence; thinking of it, he was fairly certain he had never kissed anyone. _He had never wanted to, at least until he met you._ He had spent a lifetime building up a fortress around himself, both physically and emotionally; piling on the beskar, the blasters, the anonymity and the resistance to relationships of any kind. But you — you came crashing through all of those carefully constructed walls. No — not crashing, there was nothing aggressive or intrusive about what you did. If anything, you sat outside the walls he had put up, and waited for him to emerge from behind them. Never rushing him. Never asking him to give you more than he wanted to share.

And then there was the matter of the night you had spent together in the bunk. Helmet removed, he was incredibly exposed but felt immeasurably secure. He would be lying if he said that he had fallen asleep easily; instead, he remained awake for hours, reveling in the moments in which you would move even closer to him, sighing contentedly as he held you tighter against his chest. He loved the small sounds you made in your sleep, gentle sighs and whimpers that you whispered into his chest. Din had buried his face into your hair, your shoulder, your neck, feeling emboldened to show his affection since you were sleeping soundly. For having never truly kissed anyone before, he kissed every bit of you that he could reach, allowing himself this moment of unabashed pleasure and affection. Occasionally you would stir next to him, sighing his name softly and contentedly as he pressed kisses onto the crown of your head.

_Not his name._ Mando was not his name, and while he preferred to hear you speaking it to anyone else, it wasn’t his name. He wanted to hear you whisper his _real_ name in your sleep, hear you call out to him from the ship, hear you say his name whenever you told him goodnight or goodbye. Din wondered what you would think of his name; wondered if you would think it was a good name, a strong name. Wondered what it would sound like on your lips.

Another flash of green caught his eye, and he focused in on it, hoping that you had finally arrived. He had missed the sight of you, missed your peaceful and calming presence, missed seeing your toothy and slightly crooked smile that you would flash at him, knocking the breath out of him.

And the sight of you strolling up the red carpeted steps of the seaside casino completely disarmed him.

Emerald green silk wrapped around you, cascading across your hips and spilling onto the floor, the fabric moving in gentle waves as your steps carried you along. The electric green color stood out in contrast to the burgundy flooring, drawing his gaze to you instinctively. Your back was exposed, aside from your hair that tumbled down it in graceful curls; the back of the dress dipped incredibly low, and the green fabric hugged the curve of your ass in a way that made Din’s eyes reflexively roll back into his head for a moment. And your hair — he had seen it before, but never like this. It positively shimmered under the crystal chandeliers, the light serving to highlight the strands that had been coaxed into lazy curls; and it looked incredibly soft, and Din wanted to tangle his hands in, feel it on his bare skin, and _fuck_ , he was seeing so much more of your skin than ever before — it looked polished, glowing, like something had lit you from within, and even catapulted high above you, he could still feel your sheer radiance.

You turned on your heel to look for him, and as Din’s eyes landed on yours, he felt as though the entire casino, the entire kriffing _galaxy_ came to a halt. He had to reach up subtly to touch the beskar covering his face and make sure it was still there, because the way that your eyes locked with his, he was convinced that you could see right through it. Even from this distance Din could still make out the subtle changes on your face; he didn’t know what exactly had been done, but you looked positively enchanted, ethereal, otherworldly. Your lips had been painted a deep shade of red, your eyelashes were painted black and longer than he had ever noticed; your cheekbones shimmered and reflected light like the crystals in the chandeliers above. Din had been to almost every world that had ever been mapped, and had still never encountered anything like this. You turned away from him, eye contact breaking, and Din found himself missing that unsettling feeling that you somehow saw through him.

Din’s breathing was labored as he tried to balance focusing on you, and focusing on the task at hand. He didn’t want to remember that he was supposed to be working right now. He didn’t want to remember that you had dressed like this to seek the attention of another man. All he wanted to do was watch the way the light shimmered around you, he wanted to be right down there with you, he wanted the casino to be completely empty so he could have you _all to himself,_ he wanted to give you anything you wanted — he would dance with or without music, he would hold you close, proudly and publicly if you asked — _but you never asked, you never asked Din to do anything, and he appreciated it but also so desperately wanted you to tell him what you wanted._

He watched you make your way to the bar, leaning in to whisper an order to the droid that was bartending who then turned to procure your order. _Stupid fucking droid, down there with her. Can’t appreciate her._ This sudden vitriol in his stomach was not good. He had no real claim to you — honestly, if you wanted, you could very easily leave him this evening, whisked off in the arms of one of the many wealthy men that filled the casino with their bravado and faux masculinity, built on a shoddy foundation of perceived wealth. Your previous business arrangement had been resolved, and at this moment you owed Din nothing, he owed you nothing, but there was a gradually growing sensation that Din wouldn’t be able to deny you of anything, _if only you were to ask_.

Din struggled to keep his eyes off of you, knowing that you were both here on a bounty, _for work, not for romance_ , Din chastised himself. _One night of sleeping in the same bunk didn’t make you lovers. It was a strategic use of resources._ Trying to reframe the situation at hand and correct his focus, he told himself that in order to keep you safe, like he promised, he would need to watch the entire room — _not just you_ — even though he felt he could waste an eternity watching your body move in that dress.

Din’s attention was suddenly yanked back to the very real and present danger that the two of you had stepped into, when he saw Zhalto striding confidently across the room and to the bar. The man had greasy looking dark hair and a large nose, but he was also tall and had broad shoulders. Din wondered what your type was, _wondered if he would be your type,_ if you were ever to see Din’s face. He shook his head, returning his attention to the bounty at hand. Din watched Zhalto sit down several seats away from you — _seven_ — and he shouted nastily to get the attention of the droid. _What an ass,_ Din thought, a grimace on his concealed face. _Can’t even be decent to a droid. What did he ever do to you, pal? Send you the wrong year of whiskey?_ Christ, Din Djarin was defending a droid. These were truly extraordinary times.

He took a moment to close his eyes, trying to wipe his mind clear so he could focus on two things, and two things only: keeping you safe, and collecting a bounty. He repeated these goals in his head like a mantra. _Keep you safe. Collect the bounty. Keep you safe. Collect the bounty. Keep you safe._

Those two goals started to feel further and further away as his blood pressure rose, watching you wave your fingers towards Zhalto, and then gesturing for him to come over to you. He elbowed the friends that had gathered around him, winking his dark green eyes at them and elbowing them in a suggestive way that made Din want to _turn those green eyes black._ He sat down next to you and spun your barstool to face him, his cockiness and confidence thick, and the way you were making eyes at this asshole made Din’s stomach churn. He could see you laughing, throwing your head back with a smile and painted red lips. Din could see your crooked tooth and resented the asshole for being close enough to you to see it. Your hair fell over your shoulder, exposing your neck and Din saw a delicate gold necklace that rested right above your chest. He watched you grabbed the pendant, wrapping the chain around your fingers as you leaned in closer to Zhalto, twisting it around your fingers as you whispered something to him — _and Din just wanted this to be over._ Whether the guy found his way onto the Razor Crest dead or alive, he wanted this evening to be _over_.

Din watched the two of you share a drink, and saw a growing mischievous glint in your eyes as you stood up from the seat, placing a hand on his and guiding him up with you. One of Zhalto’s eyebrows shot up, and he quickly wrapped his arm around the small of your exposed back, a hand shifting nauseatingly lower and lower as the two of you moved to leave the casino and exit onto the balcony, just as you had planned. _This was the moment,_ Din realized. You just had to get him away from the crowd and then Din could step in, _maybe rough the guy up just a little,_ and then the job would be done. You would both be able to return to the ship, to the kid, to that familiar place of existence where you could imagine that there was no world waiting for you outside of the walls.

He rose to his feet, moving to discreetly follow the two of you out onto the balcony that overlooked the churning ocean; stepping out of the bustling casino, another sound filled his helmet suddenly, and he wasn’t sure if it was the sound of the crashing waves, or the sound of his own blood pumping. Din positioned himself in a way that allowed him to see you and Zhalto as you were leaning over the balcony, watching the waves batter the sea wall that held up the casino. The light from the moon was the only illumination offered, as the balcony was closed off from the rest of the casino, protecting its patrons from the occasional mist of ocean spray that breached the high walls. You were the only three people out here, as most chose to remain inside and watch the fathiers racing, placing extraordinary bets that very well may send Din back here looking for them one day. You had been the one to suggest this more private area, and Din was impressed with how well you had thought this out.

Through the moonlight, Din saw Zhalto reach a hand up towards your face — _and thinking back to how he had found you once before, your face bleeding and your neck bruised, thinking back to how you had reacted when Din had lifted a hand to you in kindness_ — Din decided he didn’t want to risk anyone ever touching you like that again. Din stepped out of hiding to point his blaster right between Zhalto’s shoulder blades. The satisfaction that he felt in this moment after watching this greasy weasel of a man all day was positively rolling off of Din. The delivery of his signature line just tied it all together _perfectly_.

“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.”

Din felt the man tense under the pressure of his blaster, and watched him raise his hands above his head slowly. You stepped away from Din and Zhalto, nervousness evident on your face as Din worked to disarm the man. He pulled a blaster out of his waistband, and a knife out of his boot, patting him down for anything else that could be potentially dangerous and then eventually grabbing the weapons for himself. Finally, he cuffed the man and pushed him forward, as your business here was done. The man grumbled as Din led him back to the ship, with you following along behind them.

It was a quiet and tense journey, and Din kept you in his sights the entire trek back to the ship. Thankfully Zhalto knew to keep his mouth shut, so Din at least didn’t have to listen to him. The somewhat nervous look never left your face, and Din wondered if you would ever want to help with a bounty like this again. The payout for this one would certainly be nice, but Din would never ask you to do this again if you didn’t want to. Your safety and happiness mattered more to him than any bounty price.

As Din was about to lead him into the ship, Zhalto turned around unexpectedly to sneer at you. “Fucking cocktease,” he hissed, the nasty look on his face quickly disappearing as Din hit him firmly in the back of the head with the butt of his blaster. _That felt good._ _This bounty had been too tame anyway._ Your eyes grew wide at Din’s display of aggression, and as Din positioned the unconscious man to be frozen in carbonite, he grunted an explanation. “Shouldn’t talk to a woman like that.”

You stood off to the side, waiting for Din to finish the business at hand. The entrance to the ship was still open, and your frame was completely wrapped in moonlight, the glow on your skin illuminating the ship in a way that Din had never seen before. You were burning so brightly, almost as if a star had ventured down from space to settle into his calloused hands. There you stood, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen — leaning against his outdated and decrepit ship in your exquisite silk, waiting so patiently for a man who was bound by faith, who had nothing to offer you — not the lifestyle that you deserved, none of the creature comforts that he wanted to give you, _not even the face of your companion._

But the way that you stared up at him, as though you saw through his visor, saw through all of the beskar and ideology he had wrapped himself so tightly in — you stared at him as though Din had been the one to hang the very stars you loved to watch. You looked at him as though he was the most magnificent thing you had seen, despite all of the grit, the grime, the violence, that his life had been built upon. And a piece of him was terrified that at some point you would see all of the man behind the mask, and realize that you wanted more. _More than him, more than he could give._

For tonight, though, he would simply be grateful for the way you looked at him, as though he was all that you needed. Stepping forward into the moonlight, it reflected off of his armor and back onto you; the resulting glow looked like pure starlight, and as he stared deeply into your eyes he felt a desperate need to kiss you, to whisper sweetly to you, to tell you all of the beautiful things that he had been holding inside, words that were foreign to his lips but could be spoken to you and only you. His heart raced as he closed the entrance to the ship, plunging the both of you into an inky darkness.

Your hands reached out to connect with his body, coming to rest gently at his waist; and your gentle tug to pull your bodies closer together was the last bit of confirmation, of confidence, that he needed. _Confidence to do something exceptionally reckless._

The helmet had offered him some sense of vision and orientation through the darkness, and when he removed it, he felt his sight being taken from him — but the sensory deprivation only served to heighten his other senses, and he heard a small gasp escape from your lips at his actions. Nervously, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your hips into his, while his other hand reached up to cradle your cheek, his fingers just barely tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck.

Just as his confidence seemed to reach its peak, and he was moments away from finally kissing you, your hand rose up to your cheek, to hold his hand that rested there. His stomach and his bravado faltered, thinking that you were going to tell him to _stop_ —

And then you slowly removed the glove from his shaking hand, before bringing it back to rest against your cheek. Din’s chest felt as though it had been dealt a blow as he gasped, suddenly _understanding_ , and he felt his body desperately melting into yours as he leaned in to finally, _finally_ kiss you.

Your lips were even softer than Din had dared to hope, and he kissed you deeply, pulling you so tightly against him that his body was gasping for air, but he didn’t want to break away from this moment, didn’t want to let you go. Your hands snaked up his back, exploring his broad, muscled shoulders, your nails raking just so slightly down his spine, and each touch felt electric, forcing his heart to race faster and faster than ever before. You kissed him back fiercely, and then you _sighed_ , opening your mouth just _barely_ , and Din felt his knees buckle at the sensation of your tongue tracing his bottom lip. He hadn’t known that something so simple could feel so exquisite.

His whole body felt as though it was on fire, as wave after wave of excitement, euphoria, adoration, crashed over him — _he couldn’t get enough of you, didn’t think he ever would_ —and he moaned softly as he tasted you, sweet and warm and perfect just like the rest of you. He didn’t know that anything in this lifetime could feel this right and this good, somehow able to feel like coming home and skydiving at the same time. You had brought so many new and beautiful and bright things into his life, and he didn’t think he would ever have the words to tell you how you had changed his life for the better.

Your hands moved from his shoulders to reach up tentatively to touch his face; nervousness spread through him, but he didn’t pull away, instead allowing your hands to play with his mussed curls, relishing the sensation of your fingertips pressed gently against his scalp. Nobody had ever touched this part of him before, and the sensation was intoxicating. For a moment, he remembered that at some point he would have to put the helmet back on; but he pushed that looming sense of dread far, far away — _it had no place here in this perfect moment with you._

Having fully abandoned all sense of propriety, he slid his hand down to firmly cup your ass, bunching the silky fabric in his hands as he pulled you closer, and caught your bottom lip between his teeth. _This is new,_ he thought to himself hazily; _Is this good?_ His question was quickly answered as you whined, desperately pushing your body even further into his, needing every possible bit of contact and yet still not getting enough.

That dress was beautiful, and it felt like water in Din’s hand — it must’ve cost you a fortune, and he was so incredibly grateful for the sight of you in it — but there was so much _more_ that he wanted to touch that the damned dress kept him away from. A small voice in the back of his head acknowledged that it was probably a good thing, as miserable as it was, as he didn’t want to move too fast and risk having something so sweet taken from him.

Your hands seemed to also resent the layers of clothing that separated you, as you clung tightly to him, your hands having found their way under the beskar but still barricaded by Din’s rough clothing.

As Din had been the one to initiate the kiss, he was also the one to pull away, albeit quite resentfully; however, his lungs were grateful for the cool air he inhaled, some of the fire inside of him starting to die down. He continued to hold you against him, your foreheads touching as he smiled in a way that he never had before; it was so perfect, you were so perfect, it was _everything he could have wanted._

You leaned in to place another soft, gentle kiss to his lips, and sighed softly; despite the darkness, he could still feel your smile when you kissed him. “Oh, Mando...” You grinned, the joy apparent in your voice.

_No, that’s not right,_ he thought to himself. _Not Mando_. Maybe it was the adrenaline from the kiss, or oxygen deprivation from your earth-shattering kiss, or maybe he was just deliriously happy, but he rested a hand against your cheek, loving the sensation of it smiling underneath him. His thumb brushed against your lip, wanting to _hear_ you, wanting to _feel_ you say his name. “Din,” he whispered, barely audible. “My name is Din. Din Djarin.”

You kissed the thumb that had traced your lips, and Din felt a shudder roll down his spine at the tender gesture.

“Din Djarin,” you whispered back to him, leaning in for another breathtaking kiss.

_Din didn’t think he had ever heard a sweeter sound._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connect with me on Tumblr at dirty-holy-things.


	10. Chapter 10

_“This might have been a funny story if it weren’t for the fact that people need a little loving and, god, sometimes it’s sad all the shit they have to go through to find some.” - Richard Brautigan, Revenge of the Lawn_

_Din Djarin. Din Djarin. His name is Din._ Your mind and body were left reeling, completely entranced by the man that you now knew as _Din Djarin._ It was a good name, a strong name, a name that you somehow knew fit the man perfectly, despite his lifelong dedication to isolation and anonymity. You loved the way his name felt on your tongue, and you couldn’t wait to be able to use it, a secret held between the two of you, a secret that meant immeasurable trust. You wanted to sigh it into his mouth as he kissed you, wanted to be able to give him a proper goodbye when he left for a bounty, wanted to call out to him from across the ship when the kid was getting into mischief. You couldn’t wait to use his name, to become familiar with it, to become more familiar with the man that it belonged to.

Reaching up to touch your perfectly kissed and swollen lips, you wanted to laugh in disbelief and excitement. That had just happened, Din Djarin had pulled you into him and kissed you, absolutely wrecking you, body and soul. _He had shared his name with you. He had taken off the helmet to kiss you._ The weight of this gesture was not lost on you, and while a piece of yourself missed the light that could have illuminated his face, you now knew him, understood him, saw him, in a way that you believed nobody ever had. You had felt the soft curls at the nape of his neck; you had felt the facial hair that covered an exceptionally sharp and strong jawline; you had learned the line of his lips, the ones that spoke your name so beautifully when he sighed it into your mouth. _You had even learned his name._

Din had kissed your forehead, your nose, your lips, and your cheek before he let you go. Still largely blinded by the blackness that filled the hull of the ship, you relied on your hearing to assess what was going on; hearing the sound of metal moving, you assumed that he was placing the helmet back onto his head, and you felt a small part of your heart break as all you wanted anymore was to see his smile in the light. Having felt the shape of his lips against yours, you knew that he had a beautiful smile, one that you would’ve given anything to see; but for now, you would make peace with the knowledge that he was surely smiling behind the mask.

You were still trying to catch your breath when a light flickered on, illuminating the ship that you had come to identify as home. How strange, that home was so transient, never staying in one place for too long, carrying you across the galaxy.

Din had moved forward into the ship, allowing you a moment for your body, heart, and mind to return to stasis. Looking around, you saw that the clothing you had purchased from the store had been delivered to the ship, the large crate containing everything you would need to live out a life here, with Din and the kid. _How nice it was to have a name. A home_. You opened the crate, slowly dragging your hand across the variety of fabrics and textures that were held within it, looking forward to wearing the soft sleep clothing to bed — ah, yes, _bed_. The bed that you would, presumably, share with Din again. It had taken an incredible amount of restraint to not act on your more base desires last time, and now that he had kissed you? Pressed the hard angles of his muscled body into you? How were you supposed to sleep, being intoxicatingly close to a man who had so clearly wrecked you with nothing more than a kiss?

You grabbed your new sleep clothes and the bundle of hygiene products, intending on retreating to the shower before reemerging to face the man who had just familiarized himself with the desires of your body. Your sneaky venture was disrupted, however, by the small green toddler who cried out in excitement at the sight of you. You laughed, exhausted but happy to be back with him. You swooped him up into your arms, spinning him and enjoying the way the silk of the dress spun out beneath you; you had never felt so beautiful, and even when you had been bathed in the crystal lights of the casino, it couldn’t compare to how you felt here in your home.

The kid was babbling cheerfully as you spun him around, lifting him up and dancing with him despite the complete lack of music. You felt yourself laughing too, the emotional exhaustion and upheaval of the day finally beginning to catch up with you. You held his tiny fist in your hand, spinning and stepping in your best attempt at a single-person waltz.

The familiar gaze of a visor had settled onto you, watching you dance and spin with the kid; giving the kid one last lift and spinning him, your head tilted back to allow your gaze to connect with the visor, and you flashed him a smile, winking at him as you pulled the kid back into your chest.

Din took slow and measured steps towards the two of you, eventually coming up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist and rest his head on your shoulder. You sighed and relaxed into his grasp, incredibly thankful for the direction your life had taken in such a short period of time. The kid was clearly happy too, as he bounced around in your grasp, giggling and babbling excitedly. A thought crossed your mind — “Does Grogu know your name?” You asked, not wanting to violate this newfound trust.

Din nodded, his helmet buried into the crook of your neck, his grip tightening for just a moment; a silent thank you for your persistent thoughtfulness.

You turned within Din’s grasp to face him, appreciating the powerful, masculine sight that he was. Earlier, on the balcony of the casino, you had felt a flush spreading across your chest when you saw Din emerge from the shadows, the beskar pieces highlighting the exceptional structure of his body. Here was an incredibly powerful man, known to the galaxy only for his violence and prowess — and yet he chose to care for you, protect you, be vulnerable with you. The intimacy and volume of every moment spent with him was not lost on you, and there was an ever-growing desire to sink your nails, your teeth, your lips, onto every inch of him that he would allow. You squeezed his bicep gently, before passing the kid to him; you didn’t really mind this brief and sweet interruption.

Stepping into the fresher, you caught sight of yourself in the mirror for the first time since leaving the shop. You couldn’t help but laugh, as you saw that your red lipstick had been turned into faint streaks of reddish-pink that painted the lower half of your face; you looked absolutely absurd, and Din hadn’t told you! You started to laugh even _harder_ when you realized that Din’s face was surely just as colorful as yours underneath his helmet. You wondered if you should tell him, or if you should keep this newfound knowledge to yourself.

Still grinning, you coaxed your exhausted body under the blasting hot water of the shower, feeling it wash away all of the products and powders that had piled onto you; a part of you wondered if Din would still find you as beautiful without all of these additions. That part was quickly quieted though, as you remembered that Din had seen you in the best and absolute worst of states, and had still asked you to stay. Had still slept next to you. Had still removed his helmet for you. Had still kissed you, in the dark, without any of the influence of the makeup or the dress.

A different kind of nervousness fluttered in your chest, however; thinking back to ten years ago, when you had been rescued by a different man, the romantic storyline that had developed eventually took quite the turn into a structure of power, built on violence, fear, and control. You had no indication to believe that Din was _anything_ like Orron; if anything, you understood them to be complete and polar opposites; but then, who were you to really trust your own judgement? You had followed Orron easily, and had you not chosen to go with Din without a second thought? Ah, but had your judgement not changed in the past ten years? Had you not had any growth, from being the scared and abandoned child in the woods, to now? That scared child was still a part of you, but something inside desperately wanted to believe that you knew better now, would care for her, would not subject her to any more violence.

That scared child lived within you, and so did the healer, and the woman who loved a violent man, the woman who broke the cycle of violence, the woman who had escaped and built a different life, and all of these amalgamations of yourself had all led you here to this moment where you had to decide. You had to decide if you had changed, if you could trust again, or if you would have to life an isolated life built on the fear of being known.

As the water ran cold, you settled on a final thought. From what you knew of Din’s life, it had been built upon loss, upon fear, and isolation. He had every reason to distrust motives, to keep to himself, and not allow for love to make him vulnerable. And yet here he was — he had made the decision to trust you, despite it all, and his vulnerability would make you brave. Din had carried the trust and bravery for you both, and it was now time for you to share that with him.

You finished cleaning yourself up and got dressed into your new and incredibly soft sleep clothes, stepping into the cockpit where you felt you were sure to find your companions. You sat down in your seat, pulling your knees up to your chest as you shifted to get more comfortable. “Where are we going next?”

Your words seemed to startle Din, as though he had not noticed you come in and sit next to him. He was quiet for several minutes, keeping what appeared to be a nervous focus on navigation. You had both experienced a lot of emotional upheaval in the past few hours, so you didn’t force the conversation, and decided you would wait for him to speak up when he was ready. You tried not to let his silence unnerve you or make you unnecessarily anxious. _Trust him, he trusts you._ As the Razor Crest worked its way through Cantonica’s atmosphere, Din finally turned to you; the gaze of his visor landed just to the side of you and you realized that he wasn’t making direct eye contact. You knew him well enough by now to know that his decision to avoid eye contact was an intentional one. Your heart started to race, unsure of what may come next.

“I don’t want you to think that I’m... that I’m the same as Zhalto, or the other men, when you said that — that all they were looking for was to get laid, I wasn’t trying to exploit that. I should’ve asked... should’ve asked you first... before I, you know, kissed you.”

_So that’s what he was upset about._

“Din,” you said softly, moving your head to the side as you tried to initiate what you hoped was eye contact. “Din, you’re nothing like them. You’re infinitely better; I know that, I never questioned that.” His visor tilted down towards the ground, avoiding your gaze. You hadn’t considered how your earlier words and actions may have hurt or confused him; standing up from your seat, you moved to crouch next to the armrest that Din was leaning against. You tentatively reached out your hand, resting it on his thigh, wanting to somehow be able to convey what he needed to hear. “I don’t have a single regret about tonight, except that I didn’t get to spend more of it with you.”

Din finally looked up at you, and the shift in his posturing made you feel hopeful that you had been able to wipe away some of his worries. His gloved hand wrapped around yours that rested on his thigh, and the other hand came to rest gently on your chin. “Green is a good color on you.”

You smiled up at him, thankful that he seemed to feel better. “So will you tell me where we’re going now?” You returned to your seat, looking for some indication of your destination on the map.

“We’re headed to the Colonies, to the planet of Bardotta. A smuggler stole many artifacts from the Bardottan people, some of them having significant histories or ties to the Force. She is rumored to be hiding in the foothills outside of the capitol.”

“I’ve never heard of this place before.” You shared, curious about the next stop along your journey.

Din shrugged. “Bardottans are peaceful people, and known for great artwork. Many of them are Force-sensitive, and approach it as a religion.”

“So they’re people like me? And like Grogu?” You asked, nervous that the answer would be yes, and also nervous that the answer would be no. You had never really met anyone who was like you, and the thought of being on a whole planet full of people who could understand you? Well, it was both terrifying to consider and an extraordinarily exciting proposition.

“I... don’t know.” Din said cautiously. “I don’t know much about the Force, or what it’s like for you.”

That’s reasonable, you assessed. You really didn’t know much either, to be completely honest — when you were a kid it was exciting, but with the way that people responded to it, you came to fear it, to fear what lived inside yourself. You didn’t even know that it had a name until you were much older; and by that point, you felt as though part of it had become closed off to you, just within your sight but still out of reach. You could manipulate a small part of it, could heal others and, after practicing with Grogu, you could lift small objects — but the stories you had heard of it, stories about Sith and Jedi and witches? Your power was nothing like theirs.

Grogu had started to pay closer attention during this conversation, his ears perking up occasionally; you could sense that he was curious, and also... Sad? You stood up and crossed the cockpit, and he reached his little arms out to you, silently asking for you to pick him up as his fingers made little grabbing motions. You obliged, holding him closely to you, feeling his little body shift in your arms as he tried to get more comfortable. “Is talking about the Force making you sad?” You asked, not wanting to upset him.

He sighed, his eyebrows coming together in concentration and frustration. He looked up at you sadly with his large expressive eyes, lips pouting, holding a little hand out to you; you held the small hand in yours and cleared your mind, hoping that he would communicate how he was feeling with you. You progressively got more and more clarity about the complicated emotions that Grogu was experiencing, and it broke your heart to learn more about him and his past. Din was watching the two of you closely, waiting for you to share, as he could not communicate as the two of you could. “Grogu grew up with others like us,” you said slowly. “He lost a lot of his friends, because they were like us. He’s scared of getting hurt, and scared that I may get hurt, for the same reasons.” You squeezed his hand tightly, having gotten a glimpse into his grief. You didn’t know how such a tiny body held onto it all.

“I wouldn’t let anything hurt you. Either of you.” A quiet and sad voice said through the modulator.

You and Grogu both knew this. You could feel the kid’s confidence in Din’s declaration. “Is there anything you want to know? About... the Force? What it’s like for us?”

Din was quiet for a moment, and you took the time to sit back down, Grogu coming to rest in your lap. He was still holding tightly to your finger. “What does it feel like?”

“I don’t know exactly how to describe it. But... it feels like energy. Vibrating all around you. Sometimes it’s stronger than others, and it’s like you can feel it in the air or on your skin. Sometimes it feels far away, like the whole world has gone quiet, even when everything else around you is loud. And when you connect with it, to try and influence it, it’s almost like... like it’s slippery? It’s hard to grasp, hard to manipulate, but when you do, it’s as though all of your senses are heightened with this rush of power being channeled through you.”

“Did you learn how... how to grasp it? Did someone teach you?”

“Grogu was taught, I wasn’t.” You thought back to how you were treated as an outcast, a freak, how that vulnerability and desperate need for love made you susceptible to horrible things. “My family didn’t know about the Force. They thought I was possessed, or just evil. I didn’t know how or why I did things, but it scared everyone. That’s why I eventually just left my village — either to get away from them, or maybe just to die, I’m not sure, but that’s when Orron found me. He was the first one who told me that I was special, and I wanted to believe it.” Your voice had faded to a strained whisper as the memories came back to you. Not wanting to ruminate, or make Din uncomfortable with your intimate admission, you cleared your throat. “Grogu was trained by the Jedi Order, for a while. Until they fell. But he still learned a great deal, and I think I have more to learn from him.”

Din sat in the silence with you, and there was something nice about how he didn’t express any pity or sorrow for what you had endured. He understood that you survived, and that required no admission of sorrow on his part; he had told you once before that killing Orron was the right thing, rather than offering a useless apology for what you went through. Din’s approach may have seemed stoic or uncaring to others, but the quiet understanding was what you needed. Many would have rushed to fill the silence, offering condolences or forced support, whether you wanted it or not — at that point, it was more so done out of the individual’s need to feel like they had ‘done the right thing.’ You didn’t need people to tell you _you are special, or you didn’t deserve tha_ t. You already knew these things, and you appreciated that Din didn’t feel compelled to offer shallow and self-serving support. He just sat with you in the silence, allowing you to feel your own emotions, and share them as you saw fit. The three of you sat in peaceful silence, as all three of you had experienced your respective traumas, and understood each other in a way that the rest of the world never seemed to.

Your eyelids started to grow heavy with the weighted silence, and you progressively slouched further and further down into the seat until your head was resting awkwardly on your shoulder. The kid had fallen asleep entirely, and you could tell that you would be following shortly behind him. You had settled into some degree of comfort, and the idea of getting up was not enticing, but you knew that your joints and muscles would come after you with a vengeance later if you continued to sleep in this contorted position. With a yawn, you stood up and stretched, feeling your muscles pull and joints pop, having been extricated from their odd positioning.

You weren’t sure if it was appropriate to ask Din to join you, or if he was even tired, so you wordlessly made your way out of the cockpit, taking slow and soft steps so as not to wake the sleeping child. Placing him gently into his cradle, you closed it to allow him to rest undisturbed. Patting it softly, you sank down into the bunk, your body letting out an exhausted sigh as you relaxed into it. As it seemed that you wouldn’t have company, you rolled around and stretched all of your limbs out and waited for sleep to inevitably come to you.

When you were just barely clinging to the last vestiges of consciousness, barely awake, in that space between dreaming and waking, you noticed an intrusion in the bunk; you sighed and rolled over onto your side, facing the wall, hoping that Din had chosen to join you and leave the helmet behind. The darkness was pulling at the edges of your consciousness, even more so as the light that had provided a small amount of illumination in the ship had been turned off. You were certain that you were hurtling through space at this time, back in that indefinite and infinite space of inbetween; neither asleep nor awake, neither in the past or the future. The disturbance that you had noticed suddenly had a shape, one that you recognized to be Din. A smile moved slowly across your face, incredibly content that he had chosen to join you, here in the inbetween. You wanted to be closer to him, to show your gratitude for every kindness he had shown you, so you rolled over onto your other side and reached out into the darkness for him. A hand landed on the side of his face, and you realized that he had taken the helmet off again, choosing again to trust you. Scrunching up close to him, you pulled him in closely for a kiss; however because of the darkness, you missed his lips and landed on the side of his nose. You laughed, a small and brilliant sound cutting through the darkness. He laughed with you, and you could feel the baritone of his unfiltered laugh in your chest. Continuing to laugh quietly, his shoulders shaking, he pulled you in closer and kissed the side of your nose too. Working your way even closer into his body, into his warm and inviting frame, you kissed whatever part of him that your mouth was closest to, before whispering a goodnight.

“Goodnight, Din Djarin.”

“Goodnight, my sweet girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connect with me on Tumblr at dirty-holy-things.


	11. Chapter 11

_“To hope is to gamble. It’s to bet on the future, on your desires, on the possibility that an open heart and uncertainty is better than gloom and safety. To hope is dangerous, and yet it is the opposite of fear, for to live is to risk.” — Rebecca Solnit, Hope in the Dark_

The mountainous planet of Bardotta was unlike anything you had ever seen before. Admittedly, you hadn’t seen much of the galaxy outside of what Din had shown you, but the craggy peaks of mountains that jutted forward into the heavens looked both dangerous and alluring. As the capitol city was located among the higher peaks of the mountains, rather than the valleys below, the city was constantly bathed in clouds that made it seem as though the mountains and their cities, were floating in midair. Taking in the sights around you, watching the sunset turn the clouds a brilliant copper color, you understood how the Bardottan people could live a life of relative peace here. You were unsure how long your stay here may be, but you hoped that you would get to explore some of the city, maybe even talk with someone who knew the Force like you did. Having been so sharply cut off from it for so long, and having only heard whispered tales of the Force, you were enticed by the idea of being able to communicate with those who lived in it every day.

Din navigated the Razor Crest to its landing, having to find its way through narrow spaces between mountain peaks. Imagining that this was a challenging ordeal, you made sure to not disturb him; you took Grogu out of the cockpit and you both shared one of the treats that you had picked up at Coruscant. That trip somehow felt as though it was a lifetime ago, but the cookies were still relatively fresh, indicating that not as much time had passed as one may think. You eventually ended up giving the remainder of your cookie to Grogu, as you were more interested to see what foods awaited on this new planet. A piece of you was worried about how you may be able to communicate with these people; however, you recalled that as a child you had quite the knack for understanding travelers various dialects and languages.

And another piece of you was worried about Din and his next bounty. You tried to remind yourself that this is _what he does,_ and that he had been a successful bounty hunter for years before you ever knew he existed. You also knew how strong his beskar was, and how Din was armed to the teeth at all times — that is, unless he was with you. You loved getting to know the man under the armor, both physically and emotionally; but for all the knowing, it made the leaving even harder. You thought back to how you had wanted to beg him to stay when he collected the bounty on Coruscant, and now, having slept next to him, kissed him, spoken his name? You thought a piece of you might break when you had to tell him goodbye. But if you were to continue to share this journey and this life with him, you would have to make peace with the periods of worry and distance; and were those episodes of isolation not worth the time that you did spend together?

You felt the ship land, and you breathed a sigh of relief at the knowledge that you were all on stable ground. You assumed that being at a high altitude, it would be cold, so you wrapped yourself up in a few additional layers that would hopefully block the chill. You wondered how Din’s armor and clothing adjusted for the variety of climates he came across; how would he fare on Hoth, or Tattooine? You filed that curiosity away for another day, and you tucked an extra blanket into the kid’s cradle in case he got cold as well.

You returned to the cockpit of the ship to admire the view of the new planet while Din handled the ship’s needs. “I was thinking of going into the city while you’re gone, to see what it’s like here,” you shared, trying to gauge what his response to that would be. Would he want you to stay with the ship? Would you have enough time to see any of the city?

“If you do, please be careful. Keep yourself protected.” Din’s back was to you as he prepared to leave. He was likely not accustomed to having to review his plans or discuss his departures, as he had only recently acquired both you and the kid.

“Do you know how long you might be gone?” You asked, not wanting to seem obsessive or intrusive, but also not wanting to worry yourself about an extended absence if it wasn’t necessary.

“I don’t know,” he answered, and you felt your stomach drop. “I’m not familiar with the terrain here, so it may take me a while to track her down.”

You nodded, trying to keep your cool. Your feelings shouldn’t be allowed to interfere with his job; all you could ask was that he come back to you safely. “I’ll keep the kid and the ship in one piece while you’re gone.” You could feel your spirit slowly sinking as you knew the goodbye would be coming soon. You sat with Grogu in your lap while you watched Din finish his preparations; grabbing his jet pack, weapons, comm, tracking fob. You tried fiercely to not let your feelings show on your face, and for a moment you were envious that Din was able to hide his behind the beskar.

Din stood across from you, the gaze of his visor fixed on you and the kid. It seemed as though he wanted to say something, but no words came out. You gathered what you assumed would be needed for a sunset trip into the city, wanting to prolong the inevitable goodbye, but also wanting to get it over with. You sighed, arms falling to your side as the kid’s cradle hovered along beside you.

Din crossed over to you, and taking the hint, you stepped forward as well. The two of you crashed into each other unceremoniously; you buried your head in his shoulder, not minding the way the beskar dug into you, and he wrapped two strong and heavily armored arms around you. “I’ll see you soon, Din,” you whispered, bracing yourself to let go.

The modulator crackled as he sighed your name. “I’ll see you soon.”

You both stepped out of the ship and onto the rocky terrain of this new world. You smiled at him one last time before turning to journey along the path to the city, however once you had turned your back to him you felt the emotions you had worked to suppress finally making their way to your face. You took a strong, deep breath to center yourself, and tried to shift your focus to the beautiful mountains that you found yourself climbing amongst. The sky that stretched around you was peppered with clouds that shapeshifted slowly, continually being manipulated by the winds that blew between the peaks. The path to the city was an easy one, however it was fairly narrow and the cliff side was never far from your feet.

As you moved further away from the ship, and began to focus more on the world around you, you could sense that this planet was different; the air held a charge to it, felt heavy around you, and your senses heightened with every step. You had understood that there was a strong Force presence on this planet, and you were beginning to feel it; glancing over at the cradle that trailed behind you, you wondered if Grogu was experiencing these changes too.

The structures on the outskirts of the city were growing closer, and you noticed the significant craftsmanship that had gone into even the simpler architecture; everywhere you looked, you noticed new and exciting details. You felt as though you could sit in once place for a week and still discover something new and previously hidden. You continued on your journey, eyes growing wider as you tried to take in all of the senses and sights around you. Eventually, you came upon the market stand of Bardottan woman who was roasting something meaty over a fire; it smelled wonderful, and your stomach growled loudly, haven given the majority of your food to Grogu earlier. You approached her with a smile, and pulled some credits from your pockets, gesturing towards the food.

Bardottans were an interesting people, their skin blue and scaly, their eyes large and probing; youthought that you had maybe met one passing through your town before, but the interaction had been brief. The woman smiled back at you, accepting less credits than what you had offered before turning to get the food that you had paid her for.

As she handed the food to you, and you began to eat — _whatever this was, it was incredible_ — she spoke slowly to you in a very heavily accented voice. You had to pay attention closely to understand what she was saying, and then you realized that she was not speaking Basic. She was speaking an entirely different language, and yet your ears understood it and your tongue adapted to the change.

“ _Where are you from, young one?”_

_“Eadu, natively, but I lived on Chandrila for many years.”_

_“What has brought you here?”_

_“I am traveling with my companion, a bounty hunter, and his foundling.”_

The Bardottan nodded, giving you a moment to continue eating. “ _What has brought a bounty hunter to our corner of the galaxy?”_

“ _Bounty, of course._ ” You said with a smile and a gentle laugh. She laughed with you, and you were thankful that she understood your humor, having been worried that it would be lost in translation. “ _Someone stole many important things from your people. He intends to find the person who did it.”_

“ _Yes, the smuggler,_ ” the woman said sadly, wringing her hands. “ _Many things we use to commune with the spirits, or what you call the Force. The items are surely long gone, but it will be nice to know there is justice for her actions.”_

“ _You know of the Force?”_ You asked, hopeful that you may be able to learn something, anything, from her. “ _The child and I... we are, attuned to it.”_

“ _I can tell,”_ she said, patting your shoulder with a blue, scaly hand. “ _You both have many things to learn. Will you be staying here long?”_

“ _As long as it takes my companion to locate the bounty. I don’t know how long that may be.”_

_“If you are still here tomorrow, come back to me. I have someone that you should meet.”_

_“We will return tomorrow, and thank you for your kindness.”_ You felt excitement blooming in your gut, thankful that you now had something to look forward to aside from Din’s return. You could speak with someone who knew the Force, someone who could help eliminate the walls that had been built up against it — you wanted to better understand the pieces that made up your own existence, and be able to be at peace with it.

The Bardottan woman placed a hand on your cheek, bidding you goodnight, and sending you back on your way to the ship. While you had wanted to stay and talk to her longer, she was wise in sending you back when she did; after the sun had finally disappeared behind the cliffs and clouds, it was very dark and bitingly cold. You were happy to return to the comfort of the Razor Crest, and fell into a restful sleep with relative ease, Grogu snoring softly between your arms.

***

You awoke the next day full of energy and excitement for what was to come; you readied Grogu quickly, barely allowing him time to fully wake up, before starting your trek back to the city. The architecture had not lost any of its splendor overnight, and seeing the temples erected from stone bathed in the morning dew, you were able to appreciate a new and different form of its beauty. There was something stirring in your chest, drawing you forward to the city; your feet carried you along rapidly and assuredly, not missing a single step that could have had dire consequences on a cliff side.

A smile broke out on your face upon seeing the woman from the previous night. You ran the last few meters towards her, feeling lighter than air despite the altitude changes that would unsettle most. She clapped her webbed hands together in excitement, happy to see that you had returned. “ _My sweet friends, I am so glad you’ve returned! Would you like anything to eat? Tea?”_

_“That would be lovely,_ ” you responded, immensely grateful for her kindness. “ _I will warn you though, my green friend has quite an appetite.”_

_“We have plenty to share, with friends.”_

The woman gestured for you to sit next to her, across from a rolling fire that warmed the mountain air. Grogu emerged from his cradle for the first time, and quickly made friends with the woman who spent the majority of the morning bouncing him gently on her knee and feeding him bits of food. The tea was strong and sweet, and the bread and meat that was offered to you was incredibly delicious and dense enough to be filling. “ _You said that you had someone for us to meet? Someone who is... like us?”_

_“Yes, child. You are young and there is much you do not know. I hope that my friend may be able to offer you both some guidance.”_

_“Can you take us to them?”_

The woman nodded; upon finishing her tea, she rose from her seat and gestured for you to follow her. You carried Grogu in your arms, allowing him to witness the beauty of the city and its structures; you could sense that he was excited and nervous, being so close to the Force again after experiencing such a tragedy. The walls of the city continued to rise around you as you journeyed further, finally arriving upon a temple composed of stone that stood tall enough to puncture the clouds. It was painted brilliantly, the religion and orthodoxy clear in its design; upon stepping into the temple, you saw that the ceiling continued up and up, almost indefinitely, although it was trying to channel the energy of the stars that surrounded the planet.

Many artifacts that looked as though they were aged at least a millennia were positioned upon pedestals in the temple. As you focused in on them, you could feel an arousal of energy within your body, all of the hairs on your body standing on end. You could feel an electric heat radiating from the child in your arms, and you understood that this was a place that was a sort of nexus for the Force. Your heart racing, you continued to follow the Bardottan woman, trusting that she would not put you in harm’s way.

At the end of the temple, situated in the shadow of an artifact that appeared to be a sort of crystal, was another Bardottan. They were levitating during their meditation, hovering a good three feet above the ground; your arrival seemed to have not disturbed them, as they opened their eyes slowly to smile at you.

“ _This is Ixxith, the spiritual guide of this temple,_ ” The woman explained, moving to introduce you to the levitating individual. “ _Ixxith is unique; neither male nor female, young or old, they are able to commune with the spirits of the ancestors, the spirit that you associate with the Force.”_

You nodded at the woman and bowed to Ixxith. You were certain that this day would expose you to new struggles and triumphs that you could not have anticipated. You grasped Grogu’s tiny hand, checking in to ensure that he was alright with this as well. You felt his trepidation and excitement, and reassured him that if at any point he felt uncomfortable, you would both leave the temple.

Ixxith lowered themselves until their feet touched the ground, and they stepped forward to you. Reaching out, they grasped your hand and Grogu’s, humming and smiling at you; there was something about this exchange that made you feel as though Ixxith knew you already, from one touch alone. “ _Children of the Force,”_ the voice spoke, echoing around you. “ _I am thankful that you have come here. So many of your kind lose their way, in light and in dark. Balance is necessary for a balanced life; but it is so much easier to ascribe to an ideology of light or dark, rather than to strive for equilibrium.”_

“ _We both have much to learn,_ ” you acknowledged, continuing to grasp the leathery hand of Ixxith. “ _Our time here will likely be limited.”_

Ixxith nodded in understanding. “ _Balance within the Force is the hardest, but the most important, lesson to understand. If I can impart anything to you, it is that you should not fear the light or the dark within you. Become familiar with it, intimate with it. By shutting out one, you weaken yourself. When you can understand both, understand how they influence you, then you will possess true power.”_

“ _How can we achieve this?_ ” You asked; you were terrified of the idea of becoming intimate with both your dark and your light, but you could understand how both were necessary. Whether you chose to acknowledge them or not, they would still exist within you.

Ixxith hummed, moving to stand next to what appeared to be a mossy hunk of stone that was positioned upon a pedestal. “ _Meditation is the first step. Open yourself to feel the good and the bad, the uncomfortable and the comforting. Do not push them away; listen to them, but do not become lost in them. Understand the strength that each offers you. Anger offers power; peace offers respite. Sadness offers empathy, and happiness offers hope. Every emotion has a lesson to offer, if you are willing to listen.”_

Grabbing tightly to Grogu out of nervousness, you stepped closer to the mossy stone that seemed to radiate a certain energy that was drawing you nearer. You could feel something forcing your heart to race and slow at the same time; the sensations around you deepened. Ixxith gestured for you and Grogu to sit with them, in the presence of the stone; you looked to Grogu for confirmation that this is something he wanted. He nodded, and you sat down onto the polished stone floor. You sat Grogu next to you, and squeezed his hand again, knowing that he shared your interest and trepidation at this exercise in meditation.

Ixxith’s weathered hands came to rest on their knees, legs crossed beneath them. “ _Find a comfortable position. Yours may not look like mine. Then clear your mind, to allow the Force to meet you where you are.”_

Clearing your mind proved to be challenging, as you were preoccupied with worry for Din, for Grogu; and you also felt the cool rock against your thighs that made you shiver slightly. You started to become frustrated with yourself, feeling upset that you couldn’t seem to get the first step right. You shifted to change your positioning, and took several deep breaths, focusing in on the way the air filled your nose and lungs; as you relaxed and felt the air moving through you, your mind started to quiet.

The air that moved through the temple seemed to change, and it now carried the hint of a thunderstorm; a sensation that you had become quite familiar with when growing up on Eadu. You reached out to this sensation, and you felt the heaviness of the humidity of your home planet settle onto your skin. You could feel your heart beginning to race in nervousness; here you were a freak, here you had no friends, here you were vulnerable and not by your own choosing. This was a place that existed without Din, without Grogu, without Aumiyat. This was a place where your parents had rejected you — a small child who was scared, and wanted to be comforted, and they pushed you away in fear. This was the place where Orron found you, barely clinging to life; all of the pain that the planet held came rushing back to you, crashing around you like an avalanche that you feared you would become lost in. Thoughts began racing through your mind and you were powerless to stop them — if your parents had loved you, maybe you wouldn’t have ended up this way. Maybe you could’ve had a nice, normal life — a life that didn’t include such violence — and your face grimaced as tears began to flow for all of the hurt that had been repressed for so long. The floodgates had opened, the seal had been broken, and you had to ride this journey out. 

You were angry, you were hurt, a child screaming within you that was desperate for someone to love them. The anger felt like fire spreading through you, turning everything it touched into black ash. It was terrifying, finally opening yourself up to feel the hate, the anger, the resentment, and the pain that you had avoided for so long. It had finally swelled, crashing over you like a wave, and you felt as though you may drown in it— how would you ever come back from all of this? How could you become the kind person that Din and Grogu knew, after being burned alive by your anger?

And as rapidly as the anger had crashed up on you, it started to recede rapidly as well. You had every right to be hurt, and to be angry, but as Ixxith had told you, you couldn’t stay in those emotions forever. You let them pass through you, like sand spilling between your fingertips, and the roaring in your head began to quiet.

You didn’t think you could ever be grateful for how your life had been so altered by rejection and violence, but you started to understand that it played a role in leading you to where you are now. The small, screaming child within you still wanted comfort, and you were starting to find that comfort on your own — you had a child who trusted you and played with you, and you had Din, who trusted you and cared for you, in a way that a man never had before. The hurt child was not unique to you; both Din and Grogu had experienced that too, and had spent a great deal of their lives living in isolation. But life had brought you all together, and you were connected in ways that you never had been before. What had started out as an escape from your old life had turned into... a sort of family. A family that had been cobbled together with many broken pieces, but the trust and affection that filled the gaps had only served to cement you together even stronger.

Having walked through your emotions, acknowledged them for what they were, and having let them go, you felt as though you had arrived at a more balanced understanding of yourself. You sat with this feeling of peace for quite some time, enjoying the way it settled around you and onto your shoulders, as though it was a warm blanket. You felt hopeful and optimistic for your future, even though you had very little knowledge of what it may hold.

The sight of the temple was even more fascinating once you opened your eyes; it was as if your communication with the Force and with yourself had worn away the barriers that had kept pieces of the world shrouded from you. You rubbed your eyes, thinking that maybe it was just a trick of the lights, but no — the world was radiating in a way that you had never seen before. “ _Thank you, Ixxith, for everything you’ve shown us today.”_

_“Ah, I did not show you. You showed yourself. You just needed to have your sights set on the right direction.”_

Grogu got up from his seated position to move to your lap. You held him closely, one word echoing between your hearts.

_Family_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connect with me on Tumblr at dirty-holy-things.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a forewarning: this chapter will include descriptions of injuries.

_“When you wake up from death, you will find yourself in my arms, and I will be kissing you, and I will be crying.” - Richard Brautigan_

Din’s shoulders were burning as he continued his journey out of the valley and back to the mountain peaks. This bounty had been challenging, having to navigate the world below the clouds that was permanently shrouded in darkness and chill. The forests grew dense, as the Bardottan people did not utilize the trees for building or trade, and tracking down this woman in the depths of an unknown forest had been hard. And even upon tracking her down, she put up a hell of a fight. Despite the beskar protecting him from most of her blows, his body was still sore; and she had also managed to scrape one of his ribs with a nastily sharp knife. He could feel the wound open back up every time he took a deep breath, which was often, as he was hauling himself and the body of the bounty back up the mountain. He tried not to think of the blood that had soaked the entire right side of his body. He tried to keep his focus on the journey back up the mountain, the sound of the rocks and leaves crunching underneath his weighted steps, focus on the change in temperature around him as his breathing grew heavier and he had to fight for the oxygen.

He couldn’t deny that he was growing tired, as his body fought to keep him moving and keep him upright. Each step felt as though he was leaving another piece of himself behind on the nonexistent trail that he had carved through the thicket of dense, brooding trees. The seemingly endless and yet ever-changing blanket of clouds that he was walking through indicated that he was, in fact, making progress — although it felt impossibly slow going. He was ready to be done, ready to collapse onto the bunk, ready to heal and relax knowing that you and the kid were both safely back in his care. He had been worried for you, being on an unknown planet with little protection or guidance; and he knew how much of a handful the kid could be, having had to rescue him from many precarious situations.

He had spent admittedly too much of his venture worrying about you — for being a recent addition to his life, you had begun to occupy a great deal of his time and his thoughts, whether you were with him or not. He thought about how you laughed when you played with the kid, never getting upset with his antics or childlike behavior; thought about how he would catch you singing to yourself while you were in the fresher, melodies drifting through the hull of the ship as you were none the wiser; thought of how you chose to unequivocally trust him despite a life full of hardship and pain that would have made anyone approach life with trepidation. He also thought about the way that your legs looked in the tight black pants that you were _both_ so fond of; thought of how beautifully bare your face was after stepping out of the fresher. Thought about how soft your skin was when he pressed his lips against you, wanting to become even more familiar with anything you deigned to share with him.He found himself thinking of you quite often, and this trek up the mountain was no exception.

It was the thought of getting back to you that fueled each aching step he took. When he got back, he would be able to hold you. He would be able to run his fingers through your hair, hear your heartbeat race when he said your name. He would be able to feel the warmth of your body, the softness of your skin, and Gods willing, he’d be able to kiss you again. _He just had to make it up this damn mountain. No more mountain bounties._

Karga had barely talked him into this one as it was, as this planet was quite a departure from his usual bounties; but Din had seen the way you had perked up when Karga mentioned that the planet was full of Force-sensitive people, and he felt as though he couldn’t deny you a chance to connect with others like you simply out of his own selfish desires. He didn’t particularly want to share you, or the kid, or risk either of you leaving him to be with someone who could understand you better, but allowing you the opportunity to choose to stay with him felt more genuine than hiding you away because of his own insecurities. He held onto hope that upon his arrival at theRazor Crest, he would find both of you waiting for him.

Din could see the Razor Crest coming into view, and gasping, he continued to push and pull himself towards it, knowing that the end of his journey was within his reach. He was finally home, and yet... _home started to grow fuzzy_. The edges of his vision blurred, blackness swirling dangerously through his sight as he finally collapsed next to his ship. The ground, rocky and uncomfortable, rose up to meet him as his helmet slammed into the stone, setting off a ringing sound in his ears. _The ringing was so loud, how could it be so loud here within the beskar walls of his helmet?_ He could feel himself gasping and sputtering for air underneath the extraordinary weight of the beskar that was strapped to his body; he wore the armor as a second skin every day of his life, and now he felt as though he was suffocating beneath the very armor he had fought to procure. The wound on his ribcage felt as though it was tearing through him anew with each labored breath, as though it was reaching up under his rib cage to sink its sinister pain in new places. The pain spreading through him, it felt as though the wound was pumping an icy fire through his veins, his body constricting and writhing with each beat of his heart. He wondered, would this be it for the famed Mandalorian, the invincible beskar bounty hunter?

Would he die here on this _godforsaken_ , supposedly _peaceful_ planet, without ever being able to show you how hard he fought to come back home to you? Would he die just out of reach of his ship?

Grunting, he grabbed the comm that he had taken with him, hoping desperately that the other device was with you. He couldn’t recall any distinct memory of giving it to you, except for the day that you had left him on Canto Bight. _Ah, Canto Bight._ You had looked incredibly beautiful there, bathed in the kind of golden light that surrounded those who held exorbitant wealth, and he smiled as he thought of you in the green dress; thought of how you had kissed him back that night, giving him the validation that he was wanted, needed, cared for. For all his travels, nobody had felt like home quite like you had. Din had no true home; not Mandalore, not Nevarro, not even the Razor Crest; they were all places that served a purpose in his life, but they couldn’t be called home. You and the kid were what he called home, and he had fought every step up the mountain to come home to you — and yet he was mere meters out of reach.

He tried to bring the comm up to his face, however his arms felt too heavy, and they fell across his chest. The wound on his side continued to send pulsating waves of pain through him, each one making him more desperate and fearful than the last. He had fought so hard to come back to you, and he was terrified that he would die here alone, without you, without you knowing how he felt about you. Pressing the button down, he coughed out your name, once, twice, three times, unable to form any other sound. At least if he died here, like this, he would know that he was able to call out to you one last time, your name being the last thing to pass through his lips, and the thought of your body underneath him accompanying him to... _whatever was next._

His coughs lessened as the pressure on his chest became harder and harder to fight against. The ringing in his ears had quieted to a low hum that permeated his mind, blocking out most other thoughts. Gradually, the world around him grew softer, warmer, quieter. The aches in his body started to lessen, and he sighed, relaxing into this intrusive and unexpected comfort — whatever it may be, he couldn’t resist it any longer. He hoped that you would know that he had fought to come home to you.And with a final thought of your smile at the end of your shared kiss, Din felt the world fade away.

***

The world around Din had gone black, and he felt almost as though he was sleeping soundly. It was a heavy, weighted sort of warm comfort that had wrapped itself around him, and he reveled in the relief that it brought him. So much of his life was spent in varying degrees of discomfort, either from the weight of the beskar, the sparring and gunfights endured on the job, or just the lack of comfort that his day to day existence held. Reflecting on it, Din realized that he very rarely got any real, comfortable sleep in his life; he had enjoyed sleeping next to you, that is, once the adrenaline of proximity had burned off. It had probably been the best rest of his life, aside from this encompassing dark warmth that had surrounded him. He simultaneously felt as though he was sinking into this slumber, and also floating weightlessly through it. The pain that had arced through his ribcage and radiated into his body had dissipated, a soothing but somewhat concerning numbness having taken its place. Din was fairly sure that such an intense pain fading into numbness was not a good sign, but the instinctual part of himself was grateful for the relief.

And then his rest was interrupted. A faint sound could be heard, but he couldn’t quite pick out what it was; whatever it was, it sounded worried. His curiosity piqued, he focused in on the sound closer, straining to tell what it was. _Crying? Something is crying._ There was something else that was still indiscernible about the sound, as he couldn’t understand it through the pitifully wrecked sobs; whatever it was, it was heartbroken and fearful, a desperate undercurrent cutting through to him. _Focus, Din, focus. Something is wrong._ His instincts kicking in, he wanted to find a way to somehow step in and resolve the problem, but figuring out how to do that while the oppressive weight of the blackness surrounded him proved to be a challenge.

And then, as he forced himself to focus in on the sound, Din heard his own name — but it wasn’t coming from himself. _It was coming from the one who was crying._ Din strained against the blackness that had previously felt enveloping and comforting; now it felt heavy and suffocating, as if it was fighting back against him. It was though it didn’t want him to hear, didn’t want something to disrupt its efforts to pull Din even further into this darkness, a darkness that he quickly came to understood was simply death by another name. Feeling panicked at his sudden realization of what was happening, he reached out and grasped onto the only thing that offered any glimpse of hope —

_Din heard you calling his name._

This was something he could focus in on, that he could anchor himself to despite the swirling torrent that the blackness of death was rapidly turning into. He felt it trying to wrap around him and pull him back down, felt it lapping at his body desperately as it sought some sort of purchase that would allow it to regain its power over him. But despite all of its efforts, as heavy and drastic as they were, Din focused in on your voice, hoping that the sweet sound of it would finally bring him back home to you. He couldn’t possibly leave you here, tears pouring out as you cried his name desperately, brokenly; he fought to come back to you, trying to shove this darkness further and further away, your voice providing a center for him to rally against and push towards.

“Din, please, please Din, _fuck_ , come back to me — I don’t know what to do without you, _p-please_ , _please_ , fuck there’s just so much blood —“ Din heard how your voice cracked as the tears forced themselves to the surface, demanding to be shed.

Din pushed back even harder against the blackness that was swirling around him, angry at its own disruption. You were crying, you were crying out for him, he needed to reach out and tell you that you’re _safe,_ he’s _safe,_ that it’s going to be okay, he was here with you and would _never, ever leave you_. And then he thought of all the other times you had cried desperately over a body whose life drained out from beneath your hands, and _he was not going to be another one._ You had felt enough lives drain out from underneath your hands, and Din was not going to be another scar against your aching heart. His determination reinforced, he shoved even harder against the darkness that had surrounded him.

Sensations were starting to return to his body, slowly. He realized that he was, in fact, still in his own body. He had felt so detached, just moments before — but now he could feel the rocks pressing into his back, could feel the cut in his side, could feel your warm hands grasping onto him. His eyelids felt as though they were weighted down, but he could feel his chest begin to rise shallowly. Din heard you crying even harder after he started gasping for air, his lungs burning and stinging as though they had been drowned in freezing seawater. He could feel something still in his lungs, blocking the last bit of air that he needed, and with a push he forced himself to cough, cough it out —

The forcefulness of his coughing caused his eyes to open to the scene that was around him. It was still fuzzy, as if he was looking through a sheer curtain, but he could see you crouched over him, your hands pressed onto his side where the knife wound had been. He could see that the ground beneath him was covered in a rust colored, viscous liquid that he assumed was his blood mixed with the dark earth that he was splayed out upon He could taste something in his mouth, something metallic — _ah, yes. That must’ve been blood he coughed out._ His hand fought to bring itself off of the ground, trying to bring it to rest on your thigh, trying to show you in some way that he was here, that he wasn’t leaving you, that he was fighting to hold on. It wasn’t easy, as the beskar vambrace weighted him down. His muscles felt as though they were tearing as he strained, the fuzziness of the world around him increasing for a moment, threatening to fully overtake his vision.

The haze started to clear like the last layers of clouds that he had fought through earlier, and he saw tears pouring out of your eyes, your face red and swollen; seeing you so heartbroken, he fought harder, squeezing your thigh as his hand had finally made its way there. He was still here, he was fighting to stay with you, he didn’t want you to give up on trying to save him. “Din, p-please, stay here, stay with me — I’m t-t-trying _so_ hard, to heal y-you, but I need you to, _fuck_ , I need to you to _fight_ to s-stay with me, okay?” He hated how he could hear the quiver in your voice, could hear your shaky breaths, and couldn’t do much of anything to offer you consolation. He tried to nod, but his head felt like it was spinning in its helmet. He continued to hold onto you, and hold onto the tenuous grasp of consciousness that threatened to unravel at any moment.

He watched you try and center yourself, to focus, while your hands covered the wound on his side. You were crying, your face and arms streaked with what was presumably his blood, and the tears mingled with the blood and rained down across you. For being on a peaceful planet, the both of you surely looked as though you had been living in a war zone, and Din was a soldier bleeding out on the battlefield.

A strong warmth began radiate out from your hands, and Din felt this tendril of energy seeping into him as though it was moving through his very bloodstream; gradually, the burning in his lungs lessened; his vision was getting clearer, and the wound on his side was closing, almost as though nothing had happened at all. The blackness rolled back like clouds at the end of a thunderstorm, finally releasing him from its grasp. It all happened quickly, and if Din ever would’ve had to tell anyone what it was like, he was certain he would never again be able to produce the words to describe it. Feeling stronger, he said your name and tried to lift his head from the ground; and while he was certainly feeling better, his body had not entirely recovered. His attempt to sit up was unsuccessful, but you shuffled over to him across the gravel and dirt, and lifted his head so it could rest in your lap. He sighed your name again, incredibly grateful to hear you laugh through your tears as you lifted his hand to your face to kiss it. He felt as though he was on the border of laughing and crying, unsure as to what would happen first, but it was alright because he was still here with you. Whatever happened from here, Din had still fought his way back to you, and you had fought to bring him back home.

“Din, I was so scared — I heard your comm, we were in the ship sleeping — I came as quick I could, but you were bleeding so much, and your skin was c-cold,” your voice was still quaking with emotion. “I didn’t - I didn’t think I would be able to heal y-you, it was so b-b-bad, I had _never_ been able to bring someone back from _that_ — and the knife, the one she cut you with, was poisoned, so just closing the wound wasn’t- wasn’t _enough_ -“

He could feel the tears mixing with the blood that was pooled in his helmet; he had no idea how much strength this must have taken you, to bring him back from the brink of death — but you had fought so hard, poured so much of yourself into keeping him here with you, and Din couldn’t think of any time when someone had fought for _him._ Or when someone had taken care of _him._ Both tears and laughter finally crashed into each other, breaking through the last of Din’s mental barriers, and he was certain that he sounded like a madman as sobs and gasping laughter passed through his vocal modulator. “I am so glad that the kid ate something back on Nevarro,” Din said, laughing raggedly. “He brought me to you. Knew I would need you.”

You laughed, a bit fragmented. since you were still experiencing a tidal wave of emotions, but Din was so happy to hear that the laughter had taken the place of your crying.

“D’you remember what I told you, when you left my shop?” You reached up to wipe away the tears that had rolled down your stained cheeks, but your move only made things worse as your face was now covered in blood, tears, and dirt.

You were still the most beautiful thing Din had ever seen, possibly even more beautiful than ever before, as the two of you had survived this and come out clinging to each other.

Din tried to focus, but he was getting sleepy again. Not the same kind of sleepiness as before, the sleep that threatened to continue into eternity, but he just wanted to close his eyes and rest for a while. Thinking through the fog, Din remembered the moment that you were referencing. “Said you’d have to charge me for the next one.”

“I’ll send you the bill.”

The laughter and tears continued to mix together as you both clung desperately to each other, broken, but healing. _Finally healing_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connect with me on Tumblr at dirty-holy-things.


	13. Chapter 13

_“Tell me, what names have been whispered at your altar? What language would you like me to use when I whisper yours?” - Kerry Banzanek_

The planet of Bardotta continued on through the galaxy as usual, paying no mind to the bloody scene that stained its mountainous, craggy surface. The rains would eventually wash away the evidence of what had taken place here, and the planet would continue to turn as before, as it always had, as it always would. The galaxy would carry on as always, unaffected by the day’s events, unaffected by trauma, grief, joy, love. These things meant very little to a the galaxy itself, and yet the galaxy held all of those emotions — all of the love, joy, grief and trauma that every inhabitant felt. Maybe remaining distant and unaffected was the only way to survive the ceaseless waves of human emotion.

And while the rest of the galaxy moved forward, Din was exceptionally grateful for this moment here with you. He hadn’t been certain that he would be able to fight his way back to you; he had feared he would never be able to hold you or kiss you or give you all of the beautiful things you desired. And yet he was still here, you were still here, and you had saved him in a way he had never been saved before. You both laughed, the joy mixing in with the day’s sorrow and fear; it was a mess of a sound, but it was like music to Din’s ears, and he would’ve listened to you overflowing with joy and relief every day if given the chance. The two of you stayed like this for quite a while, Din’s head resting in your lap, and he began to wonder how he would muster the strength to haul himself back onto his ship, his body healing but still exhausted. You seemed to have already thought this through, however, as you placed your hands onto Din’s shoulders before shifting him to lay back down on the ground. He winced at the loss of contact, missing the soft feeling of your body and the gentle way you held him; the bloodied rocks below didn’t offer quite the same level of comfort.

“Din, I’m going to be right back — _right_ back, I promise — I’m going to get one of my bacta syringes, hopefully that will help you get back onto the ship — I don’t think I can do it by myself, especially with all of the beskar — but I’ll be right back, I _promise_.” Your voice was shaking slightly, still a bit frayed from the earlier events; he wished he could have done more to help you, but he understood that maybe it was time to let someone else help him.

Din felt like he nodded back to you in understanding, but he couldn’t be sure; he would have tried to get up, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that you were right — the beskar was heavy, even for Din under normal circumstances, and you had to be absolutely exhausted for having fought so hard to keep him alive. You wouldn’t be able to bring him back to the ship on your own, and he was in no state to bear his own body weight; this would require some creative problem solving. He kept his eyes closed while he waited for you to return, as the world around him was still spinning ever so slightly, progressively slowing down until it came to a rest.

Din heard your footsteps on the rocky terrain and opened his eyes; disheveled as you were, he didn’t want to miss any sight of you. He watched you kneel down next to him, carrying a worryingly large needle — _it’s just a needle Din, calm down, you’re acting like you’ve never been shot before —_ and you fought at Din’s clothing and armor to push the dirty garments aside just enough for the needle to be able to land dead center in his hip. He winced as the large needle pinched him, but the resulting relief and euphoria was worth it as the bacta started to work its way through his body.

After a few minutes he was able to sit up, his head coming to eye level as you were still on your knees next to him. His body felt as though it were being reenergized, enthusiasm and life returning to him as though a wave crashed over him; he wondered if what he was feeling like could be described as being drunk, or high. He had never been either of those things, but from what he had heard, it was his best approximation for how he felt right now.

His body still ached, and his muscles were still weak, but it felt as though the bacta was somehow reanimating him, bringing him back to life and taking over control of his functions. It was almost as though the bacta was somehow managing to puppet his body, despite its broken strings. He somehow felt incredibly energized and incredibly exhausted at the same time and he had no idea how these two feelings could coexist in one body.

The world felt somehow fast and slow at the same time; every sensation was simultaneously heightened and dulled. His speech was slurred and uncontrolled, and he caught himself by surprise when what he thought had been an _internal_ observation... _was not_. “I like seeing you on your knees,” he mumbled, his body swaying slightly.

_Oh, not good._ Din was nervous about this sudden lack of inhibition and what may come out next. He thought of all of the explicit things that had come through his mind before, and wondered what may come tumbling out of his mouth next.

He watched your face turn bright red at his sudden and explicit declaration, and then you laughed, the dirt and blood creasing around your face as you smiled. “Is that the bacta talking to me now, or Din?”

“Is’me. You look so pretty like this,” he grinned, knowing that you couldn’t see the dumb look on his face and being incredibly grateful for that. “My pre... pretty girl on her knees for me.”

_Oh gods. Fuck. Shut the fuck up, you obliterated dumbass. She’s going to kill you, and won’t save you again. What the fuck is wrong with you? Shut your goddamn mouth._

“Your girl?” You asked, an eyebrow quirking up. Din’s dazed brain took that as a positive sign, and that interpretation of reinforcement would only serve to fuel his unfiltered confessions.

“Mhm,” he mumbled, enjoying the way the bacta coursed through him and soothed the aches in his body. He could understand now why some people abused the hell out of this stuff, and why it was so expensive to get ahold of. There was something undeniably exhilarating about speaking without any inhibitions, as... embarassing, and terrifying as it was. Or maybe the bacta had gotten to his brain and Din was just finally losing it. He reached out to cup your cheek, stroking it softly. “My pretty girl.”

You smiled at him and rolled your eyes. “Alright lover boy, let’s see if we can get you to bed. Can I take off the beskar before I try and help you in?”

“Mhm, take off whatever you need.” He slurred, a suggestive undertone to his voice. “Jus’ not the helmet.” You nodded in understanding and worked to remove all of the unnecessary gear from Din’s body, and he felt the drastic change in the weight that pinned him down. Finally, he was only in his stained clothing, having been freed from the armor. You wrapped your arm around his back, pulling him up first to his knees, and then to his feet. The change in altitude caught him by surprise and Din swayed precariously as he tried to step forward, while you fought to keep him upright as you took slow, guided steps together into the ship. His footsteps became more and more confident with each step, until he was almost brave enough to think he could shuffle along on his own; but loving the contact, he continued to lean on you, trusting you to support him. Upon entering into the hull of the Razor Crest, he found he was able to keep himself propped up against the wall of the ship, as you ventured back out to collect his gear.

The comfort of the bed was calling to him, but then he remembered that the both of you were an absolute _disaster_ right now. Coated in blood, dirt, and tears, he did not want to fall asleep like this and wake up as disgusting as he felt right now. And after all of the work you had done to heal Din, you deserved to rest comfortably, in clean clothes and in a clean bed. However, he knew that it was extremely unlikely that he would be able to fully clean himself on his own, given that he was still struggling with mobility. And whether it was the bacta or the exhaustion talking, Din had an interesting proposition for you.

“Shower,” he mumbled to you as you returned to the ship. “Me and you.” You froze in midair and Din worried that maybe this was going _too far._ That at some point, he would cross the point of no return, and it could devastate him. _You could devastate him._ Trying to salvage things, he scrambled for the first explanation that his dizzy head could come up with. _“_ There’s no’much hot water. If we keep the lights off... We can both clean up. Then sleep.”

You were quiet for several moments, but Din had the advantage of being able to see your face and see the emotions play out on it. His thoughts and feelings were always so well masked, and others had to rely on his words and verbal cues; this meant that he always had the advantage of being able to see what was written on someone’s face. As your silence was starting to become worrisome, Din prepared to retract his offer and apologize, but then you wrapped your arm around him again, helping him take slow steps to the fresher. _This was happening._ Din felt a nervous excitement bloom in his stomach, and despite how tired his body was, it still pumped adrenaline through him at the thought of sharing the shower with you. _Did you agree to it out of practicality, or because you wanted this, too? Wanted Din the same way he wanted you? Could you ever possibly want someone you had never seen before?_

Din leaned his bruised and filthy body against the sink while he watched you turn on the water of the fresher, the hot water blasting in the small shower space and filling the room with a comforting white noise. As the steam progressively filled the room, he waited nervously and excitedly for what may happen next.

He watched you step slowly towards him, your eyes somehow always managing to find his despite the beskar that kept him hidden; he had never understood how you were so adept at seeing right through him; but maybe it was because Din _wanted_ you to see through to him. Your steps intentional, you came to press your hips into his, allowing Din to feel the gentle curves of your body through the layers of bloodstained and ruined clothing, just as he had wanted since the day he met you. Din lifted his gloved hands to rest them on your waist, sliding downwards across your hips and pulling you up and into him; he saw you smile and exhale nervously, before you turned off the light, plunging the room into darkness.

Din had experienced quite a lot of darkness today, but he reveled in sharing this darkness with you. This darkness offered intimacy, vulnerability, sensuality, the things he had been craving with you and only you. Reaching upwards, he pulled the helmet off and set it down in the sink behind him; feeling the warm and comforting steam of the shower on his face, he wanted to feel it everywhere, wanted to let the hot water wrap around you both and wash away the nightmare of the day.

After the helmet came off, next it was his shirt. He tossed it onto the floor of the fresher, keeping his focus and attention on you. You had been holding onto his hips and the bloody fabric that covered them, and then Din felt your hands leave him, moving back towards your own body to pull your shirt off and over your head. He groaned, a forceful exhale of his desire to pin you to the wall right then and there; and you were still _mostly clothed._

In a bold move that surprised Din, you took his hands in yours and led them to your back, where the clasp of your bra had been securely fastened. He bit the inside of his lip, hands working shakily to undo the hooks that held the restrictive garment in place; _gods, why did these things have to be so fucking complex?_ When he felt the clasp give way, he assisted you with removing it entirely before his hands returned to the small of your back, pulling you into him for a desperate kiss. Din’s mouth opened for you, loving the sensation of your tongue as it explored him, and neither of you seemed to notice the dried blood and tears that covered your faces as you were completely wrapped up in the sensation of each other’s touch.

Din could feel himself growing hard beneath the fabric of his pants that now felt uncomfortably and unpleasantly tight. He caught your bottom lip between his teeth and sucked on it gently, his tongue tracing across it, as his hands moved from your body and back to his. Your hands were still resting on his narrow hips, and he wrapped his large hands around yours, guiding you as his pants and underclothes shifted lower, and lower, and _lower_ until he was able to step out of them entirely. Completely exposed, Din reveled in the desperate, needy sounds that you were sighing into his mouth.

_You wanted him. You needed him._

He could feel his heartbeat pounding throughout his entire body, the tension of his desire clouding his mind and making him bolder, more impulsive. He moved to kiss your neck, planting hot, open-mouthed kisses against you, loving how he could feel your heartbeat here, loving how he could feel it race for him. When he came to rest his mouth right under your ear, he bit down softly and experimentally, and the way you gasped underneath him made his head spin.

He felt you pull away for a moment, and the loss of contact was disorienting, until he realized that you were removing the last of your clothing as well. While the darkness of the fresher kept you both concealed, Din still knew that the sight of you naked in front of him would be the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He pulled your incredibly soft and warm body into his, guiding you both into the shower and under the stream of hot water.

For having spent so much of his life completely removed from all physical sensations on his skin, the combination of your body against his, and the water running between you, Din felt more euphoric than ever before. He had never been indulged like this, cared for like this; it was all foreign, and he wanted it to become more familiar than his homeland.

His hands dragged all over your body, enjoying how your soft skin felt under his calloused hands, loving how you sighed so prettily underneath him with every indulgent, pressured touch. Wanting to show you his gratitude for the way you had rescued him and cared for him, Din grabbed his bar of soap and began to run it over your body gently, wiping away the evidence that remained of your fear and devastation earlier. He felt the nightmare of the day wash away from the both of you, bringing you both back to life and into this incredible moment.

You whimpered underneath him as he began to move lower, his hands moving between your legs and making slow, gentle, soapy circles on your ass. Feeling emboldened by the desperate sounds you were making, he slowly sank to his knees in the small shower, before resting his head of wet curls against your hipbone as he continued to clean you up. “Oh, my _pretty girl. Sweet_ girl _.”_

_“Din,”_ you whined, your voice rising an octave as you made no effort to conceal your desire.

“Such a _sweet_ girl,” he growled into your skin. “Let me take care of you now.”

At this point, Din was acting entirely on primal urges and instinct. He had been with women in the past, but never in a way that mattered — pleasure houses got the job done, took the edge off, but he had never been close to a woman in this way, had never kissed anyone before, and here you were blooming underneath his touch, allowing him to explore all of the things that had been closed off to him for so long. You were the first person he had come across in the whole galaxy who he wanted to know in _this_ way.

Din started by kissing at your knees, slowly working his way up your inner thigh; now knowing that you truly did want him, he was in no rush, wanting to enjoy every moment and every inch of you. He loved the way the soft skin of your thighs felt on his lips, loved how you would gasp and sigh as he placed _mostly_ gentle bites on your body.

As he moved further upwards, towards your center, he paused for a moment, wanting to make sure that this was alright, this was truly what you wanted. And when you reached out to him to grab a handful of his damp hair, tugging on it gently, he took that as the sign he needed to explore you further. His heart was hammering at a breakneck pace as he realized he was moments away from everything he had never known he wanted.

Din licked a hot, wet line through you, his eyes rolling back and his stomach doing backflips as he tasted you - _god, you tasted fucking incredible -_ and he kissed the bundle of aching nerves at the apex of your thighs, flicking his tongue over you experimentally - and suddenly your thighs came together to rest on either side of his face —

— _god, that was fucking hot, you could crush him with your thighs and he’d send you a thank-you card for it, he could live right here if you’d let him —_

“Mmm,” he murmured into you, swirling his tongue around your clit, loving the way he felt you spasm and grow wet at his touch. “My sweet girl, my _good girl.”_

_“Gods,_ Din, _please —“_ you begged, and _fuck_ if that wasn’t the hottest thing, hearing you _beg_ for him while he made slow and pressured circles with his tongue on your clit. He loved this feeling of being wanted, being needed, being desired.

“Please what?” He asked, knowing full well what you wanted, but needing to hear you _say it._ You whimpered and your thighs clenched together even tighter; Din turned his attentions to taste inside of you, loving the taste ofyour wetness on his tongue, loving the heat of your body around him;.

“Tell me what you want, pretty girl.”

You weren’t able to articulate a response as Din had wanted, but he still knew what you wanted. _Wanted to cum on his face_ , wanted to feel that release that _only Din could give you now._ And between your wetness and the blistering hot water that was still raining down around you, Din was able to slide a finger inside of you with ease, this new sensation and feeling of your body sending him into overdrive — _you were softer than velvet, hotter than fire, wetter than the oceans_ — how could this all possibly coexist? 

You moaned his name over and over and over, as Din slid in and out of you, loving the explicit sounds your body made while he pleasured you — and moving his mouth back to your clit, sucking gently, he added another finger to your tight, wet heat, feeling your body clench around his fingers — _fuck, the way you would take his cock so good, so tight, opening up just for him —_ and he curled his fingers, stroking inside of you while he continued to apply pressure and stimulation to your clit.

“Din, D-Din, oh fuck—“

“That’s a good girl,” he cooed, “Cum for me.” He maintained his rhythm and pattern with your body, his heart hammering at the idea of being able to give you this, to make you feel adored in a way that you deserved, knowing you deserved to feel like this every day. He could feel the tension in your body building to a peak as he continued to stroke your tight, velvety walls and toy with your clit; your hands in his hair tightened and he groaned underneath you, somehow instinctively knowing that you were getting close.

You started to make high pitched, unintelligible sounds, your nails scraping against Din’s scalp; and then he felt you tighten impossibly before you spasmed around him, your body releasing shock waves of pleasure as you cried out his name over and over; and _fuck,_ he loved _every second of this,_ he wanted to do this _every goddamn day_. His strokes began to slow as he felt your body coming down from its high; finally, pulling his fingers out, he brought them to his mouth, not wanting to lose _any_ of what you just gave him.

He could feel your body had relaxed, and he wrapped a tense and muscled arm around your waist, guiding himself back up and into a kiss of gratitude. “Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely, kissing your neck as he pressed you into the wall of the shower. His cock was still hard and throbbing, pressed against your thigh, but he wasn’t worried about himself right now; he just wanted to hold you close and shower you with adoration and affection.

So Din was a bit caught off guard when you broke away from the kiss, to... _sink to your knees in front of him_. He knew you couldn’t see him, and he was actually quite thankful for that, because the look that crossed his face would have been devastatingly expressive. The image of you on your knees in front of him, soaking wet — _from both Din and the shower —_ threatened to undo him right then and there, and you hadn’t even touched him yet. Concentrating, he tried to pull himself back from that edge, wanting to fully enjoy and experience every sensation you offered.

Din felt your fingers wrap around the length of him, unable to take it all in one hand, and his head rolled back to the wall of the shower with an unceremonious _thud_ as the sensation overwhelmed him _._ He gasped your name as your hand started to work up and down his length, and his hips instinctively bucked up towards you, desperately needing more contact. Seemingly unperturbed by his blatant display of need, you continued to work him slowly, until you finally brought your mouth down to allow your tongue to trace gently along the head of his cock, tasting the precum that had gathered there. _Fuck yeah, that’s a good girl,_ Din thought, hoping that you would take him into your mouth.

And suddenly your mouth opened to Din, allowing him to thrust forward into you; and the sensation of your mouth and tongue on his throbbing cock was — _incredible, stellar, fucking beautiful._ Your head moved back, but your lips wrapped tightly around him as your tongue drug across the underside; while you were bobbing your head, Din felt as though his heart may collapse, the sheer sensory stimulation and overload of pleasure being unlike anything he had ever experienced. He could feel tension building up in his body, moving through his thighs and his chest as his breathing became more and more shallow.

You rolled your tongue around the tip of his cock while your hand came up to grasp him, and before Din even knew what was happening, he reached out and grabbed your hair, pulling it gently while he moaned your name. Din hoped that this hadn’t gone too far, been too rough, but the way you hummed in the back of your mouth at the sensation made him think that _oh, you enjoyed this._ “Fuck,” he panted, trying to catch his breath; “Yes, love the way you take my cock, fuck — god, you’re so fucking gorgeous. So pretty. So pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

He couldn’t believe the words that had come from his own mouth, but as you whined against his aching cock he understood that this was something that you enjoyed. Din felt one of your hands move slowly to the back of his thigh, gently pressing him forward until he felt his cock in the back of your throat; and then you released the pressure on his thigh for a moment, his hips pulling away, before you were pressing him back into you again.

_You were guiding him._

A lightbulb went off in his head, and he took your cue, starting to thrust forward into your mouth, becoming more aggressive and emboldened as you took him so easily and so well. “Fuck, that’s a good girl, you like it when I fuck your mouth?” he moaned, while trying to keep himself from falling apart beneath you. You hummed around him again, the combined sensation of the soft heat of your mouth and the vibration from the humming leading Din right to his climax.

He continued to thrust erratically into your mouth, his grip on your hair growing tighter as his breaths got shorter and more desperate. “Gonna - gonna cum,” he panted, hoping to give you enough warning to decide what to do — _and then you continued to keep your mouth on him, an invitation_ — and Din felt his orgasm hit him like a blow to the sternum, his eyes rolling back and closing as he thought of you swallowing him, swallowing his cum and _fuck_ if that wasn’t an incredible thing.

He felt his release roll through him as hot ropes of cum rolled across your tongue and down your throat. The rush of heat and relief of tension cascaded over his body, crashing through him like ocean waves, until it slowly subsided, leaving Din heaving against the wall and his knees threatening to give way. Your mouth slid off of him with a wet-sounding _pop_ and you rose to your feet, leaning in to rest your exhausted body against Din’s thoroughly wrecked one.

You continued to relax into each other’s arms, breathing slowed, listening to each other’s heartbeats. Din understood that there was no coming back from this, from what you had experienced today; he had crossed the point of no return and knew that he was going to spend his entire life chasing you, missing you, holding you, needing you. He would forever be indebted to you for saving his life, for pouring yourself into healing him as he fought desperately to stay with you, not wanting your shared story to end yet; and the way that your desires had crashed into each other within the small, cramped fresher, he knew that he wanted this story to continue forever.

He felt your body shift against his, your head moving against his chest to look up at him, despite the pitch blackness you had found yourselves in. He could feel you smiling, could feel a laugh building up in your chest until the humor and joy overflowed from you.

“The bit about having enough hot water was quite clever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connect with me on Tumblr at dirty-holy-things.


	14. Chapter 14

_“Actually, you said love, for you, is larger than the usual romantic love. It’s like a religion.”- Richard Siken, Litany In Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out_

The water of the fresher did _eventually_ run cold, but it afforded you and Din both the time needed to recover from your respective climaxes and finish washing away the blood and dirt of the day. Your heart was still pounding at the thought of what had just happened here, in this small space; it was all of the fantasies that you had been hiding, covering up, locking away, finally coming to life. It was everything you had wanted, and it was fucking _incredible. Din was fucking incredible._ Your legs still shook as you climbed out of the fresher, drying yourself off before the dizziness and the exhaustion slammed back into you. You focused your breathing and energy, knowing that you would likely still need to help Din maneuver himself into bed. The two of you were quite a pathetic sight, having been completely wrecked in ways that you had never expected.

You had honestly been scared shitless when Din suggested you shower together. Almost as scared as you had been when you found him cold and unmoving next to his ship, his armored body looking broken in a horrifying and heartbreaking way. It had taken every ounce of energy you could spare to bring him back — you still remembered how the poison of the blade fought back against you, evading your attempts at healing as it coursed through him, being chased down by your desperate light until it was entirely eradicated from his body. You had been so terrified that you wouldn’t be able to save him, wouldn’t be able to bring him back — you would have poured your entire life into saving his, but for a moment you feared that even that would not be enough. Thank the gods that Din was just as much of a fighter as you though; and being on this planet, being attuned to the Force in new and stronger ways, you were able to catch a glimpse of how valiantly he had fought to stay with you. How he used your voice as an anchor to hold onto while the black waves tried to drag him away from you.

And as terrifying as that — what, thirty minutes? Could it really have been that short? — as terrifying as that period of time was, it was only marginally more intimidating and overwhelming than the offer of this new intimacy with Din. You knew that if you indulged him, indulged yourself, there would be no coming back from this. You wouldn’t be able to deny the desires of your heart any longer. You would let yourself fall for him entirely, trusting and hoping that he would reciprocate.

_Gods, talk about some fucking reciprocation._

You had known from the very minute that Din had walked into your shop on Chandrila that he was fucking gorgeous underneath the armor. You knew that he was an incredible specimen, his body and armor a testament to every battle he had won and everything he had survived, making him stronger, more powerful, unlike any other man you had ever known before. And while you hadn’t known many men, you knew that Din was... _above average,_ in many ways. You felt a shudder run up your spine as you thought of how he knew your body, knew your needs, almost immediately — as if he had known you his whole life. And while what he gave you, pressed up against the wall of the shower, your nails digging desperately into his scalp while you chased your high, was better than _anything_ you had ever experienced — you still wanted _more_. Wanted to know how he would feel buried deep inside you, wanted to hear the sounds he would make, wanted to hear him call you _his good girl._ And you wanted to give him more, too— more than just your body, you would give him anything he asked for. You were a goner and you were entirely alright with it.

You knew that you were past the point of no return. You knew that you were falling in love with this man, this faceless stranger that somehow seemed to know you better than you knew yourself; and you felt as though you knew him better than anyone else in this entire galaxy did. You didn’t need to see the face to know the man. You knew how the muscles and the veins in his hand flexed when his gloves came off, knew that he had curly hair, knew how he let the kid keep the small silver ball that had originally been part of the flight equipment of the ship. You knew that he slept curled tightly against you, wrapping his entire body around you protectively like a cocoon. You knew that a man who had built himself an impenetrable fortress out of beskar and isolation had _chosen_ to let you and a small green creature in, to know him and care for him. The thought of all the years that he had been forced to spend alone made your heart sink, and you wished that somehow the galaxy could have brought you together sooner.

But you were grateful for every moment you had with him, even more grateful now that you had both survived what most would consider to be impossible. And now, you were safe, Din was safe. Your family was safe. _What a beautiful feeling._

Having managed to find your clean clothing in the dimly-lit cabin, you pulled on a soft shirt and loose pants; you thought of the grisly clothes that now littered the floor of the fresher, and knew that those items were absolutely done for. Curiously, you wondered where Din kept his additional clothing and supplies. Not wanting to disturb him, as he was still recovering in the fresher — _unmasked —_ you figured that it was a small enough ship that you would be able to figure it out without much difficulty.

You were right, and after cracking open the third cleverly concealed storage area you were able to find men’s clothing. You grabbed pants, underclothes, and a shirt for him, not sure what he would want or need. You crossed back to the fresher, knocking gently on the door to alert him of your presence. “Let me know when you’re ready. I’ll close my eyes.”

You heard the lock on the door click and you shut your eyes tightly, adding a hand to cover them for good measure. You had no desire to peek, no impulse to steal a glance, and you didn’t want him to worry over it. You felt a hand reach out to grab your waist, pulling you back into the darkness of the fresher. You felt the warm and damp skin of his body press against your clothed one, and you had a very sudden and strong newfound resentment for the incredibly comfortable clothing you found yourself in. Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you held out the clothes in what you ascertained was his general direction. “I was able to find these. Your — your other clothes are wrecked.”

“Thank you,” he said gently, his thumb tracing slow and gentle circles into your hip. He kissed your shoulder lightly before letting you go and proceeding to dress himself. You heard the metal clanging of the helmet in the sink, and sighed as you knew it was time for him to put it back on. “Could —“ he started nervously. “Could you give me just a minute in here, alone?”

“Oh, s-sure, yeah, I’ll just go then —“ You sputtered nervously, afraid that you had done something wrong. _Maybe he was upset that you went through his belongings, or regretted what you had done before_ —

“There’s... ah, well, the inside of the helmet needs to be cleaned.” He grasped the helmet in his hands and you could feel the beskar putting distance between your bodies. “There’s blood and who knows what else in it, and I don’t... I don’t want to put it back on.” He paused for a moment and your heart raced as you waited to see if he would add anything else to that sentence. “I don’t want to put it back on if it’s still a mess.”

You nodded to yourself, chastising yourself for reading way too much into something that was simply a matter of practicality. _Of course he wanted to clean it up before putting it back on, why had you thought any differently?_ “I’ll be in the bunk, if... if you want to join me?” You resented the way your voice went up in pitch at the end, sounding desperate and childish. You couldn’t understand why you were acting so awkwardly, as if he had not slept next to you before, as if he had not become intimately familiar with your body. _Why the sudden sense of shame?_

“I’ll see you soon,” his baritone voice echoed, a promise that he would join you in the bunk. You loved how his voice sounded without the modulator, deep and warm and velvety, maybe just the smallest hint of spice and brusqueness. You could have listened to him forever.

“I’ll see you soon, Din.” You kissed his cheek before turning on your heel, closing your eyes and covering them with your palm as you stepped back into the lit cabin. You saw that the cradle was still floating undisturbed and were glad that the kid had managed to sleep through... well, _everything_. You didn’t want to have to try and explain anything that you didn’t have any explanation for. You climbed into the bunk, sinking into its cushions with a groan as your body realized it was finally was going to get the rest that it had been so desperately crying out for. You could feel the waves of exhaustion rolling over you and rocking you to sleep; you wanted to wait until Din joined you though, wanting to be able to say goodnight and maybe kiss him one more time, just to reinforce that what you experienced earlier was real — not some panic induced fever dream or hallucination.

After what felt like an eternity, you felt him climb into the bunk with you, wrapping his limbs around yours and pulling you into him closely. You sighed in contentment as you relaxed into his arms, his name passing through your lips ever so softly. You could tell that the lights were off, and you hoped that meant his helmet was off too — and when you rolled over and placed your palm onto his stubbled cheek, you smiled and leaned in for a kiss. He kissed you slowly and deeply, almost as if he was also trying to convince himself that this was real. “Goodnight, sweet girl,” he whispered softly, planting a gentle kiss onto the side of your nose as he had done once before. You laughed and kissed the side of his nose as well, before nestling your head into his strong chest and letting sleep overtake you both.

***

You awoke the next morning to the sound of Din snoring softly next to you, his arms holding you tightly against his chest as it rose and fell with each breath that said _he’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive._ Yesterday was real, in all of its horrors and highlights, and yet you were both still here waking up in each other’s arms. You reveled in the sensation of him pressed against you, grateful for the small bunk that was only constructed for one person, as it meant you were as close to him as you could possibly be. You loved the warmth that he radiated, loved the smell of his soap on his skin, the small things that were so uniquely his, that only you would know. The cabin of the ship was still dark, so you felt comfortable with shuffling up to kiss his chin, his cheek, and the tip of his nose. Stopping mid-snore with a startle, his arms gathered you closely to him and his hands ran across your body, sighing in contentedness and not wanting to wake up just yet. Deciding to indulge him, you allowed him to sleep, and sleep eventually came back to claim you too.

***

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you felt Din extricate himself from the bunk and begin redressing himself, but the light within the cabin that he turned on felt horribly intrusive as you weren’t ready to wake up just yet. You rolled over with a loud grumble, pulling the blanket tightly around yourself and stretching your body out to enjoy the newly opened expanse of the bed.

However, when you heard the entrance to the ship opened, you sat upright so quickly that your eyes and brain took more than a few moments to acclimate to the sudden change in latitude. _Where was he going?_

You weren’t sure if he was somehow able to read your thoughts now, but an explanation carried through the ship, the modulator hiding the voice you had heard the night before. “I’m going to load the quarry and then I’ll be right back.”

You nodded to yourself and laid back down, feeling more comfortable and secure knowing what he was doing. However, your comfort only lasted for a few minutes more as the sound of Din freezing the body in carbonite disturbed the kid’s sleep. You heard soft cries coming from the cradle and you sat up with a heavy sigh, dragging your hands across your face as you tried to dispel the last bits of sleep that were lingering hopefully. Standing, your legs felt marginally more stable than the night before, and you retrieved the crying kid from his cradle, bouncing him against your hip as you waited for him to fully wake up and calm back down. You bustled around the cabin in your sleep clothes, procuring something to eat for the kid and some water for yourself. _What you wouldn’t give for a cup of caf at Aumiyat’s._

An idea came to you; Din didn’t yet know how you and the kid had spent your days apart. Maybe, if he could spare the time, you could introduce him to Ixxith and show off some of the talents that you and the kid had worked to develop. As you waited for him to return to the cabin of the ship, you wrung your hands nervously at this idea of sharing this with him, something that had been so repressed and private. After Grogu had finished eating, he trilled at you to pick him up and you got the feeling that he was wanting to show off as well. Setting your mind to it, you decided that you would make the offer to Din and let him decide.

He strolled back into the ship and began to make pre-flight checks. Stepping forward with the kid in your arms, you steadied your voice before speaking. “Grogu and I learned a great deal here, from a temple leader named Ixxith. We would like to see them again before we depart, if there’s time to do so.”

Your proposition was unnecessarily formal as Din only nodded in response, and waited for you to lead him to the temple. You grabbed a thick jacket, tucked a blanket tightly around Grogu; andyou noticed that Din grabbed what appeared to be a dense, grey woolen cape and drape it around his shoulders.

_Mmm, broad fucking shoulders. Strong arms. Can pin me against the wall with those._

You shook the thoughts from your mind, trying to focus on the journey at hand. Din tapped a button on his vambrace that made the cradle follow next to him. “I need one of those,” you joked, reaching out to run your fingertips along the beskar. “Might help keep the kid out of trouble.”

“That would take a miracle.”

The two of you shared a laugh, knowing the story of the kid’s attachment to the shiny silver ball and the wampa toy you had acquired for him on Coruscant; his persistent and insistent curiosity certainly kept you all occupied. You stepped out of the ship and back into the world of the Bardottans that had brought you strength in your connection to the Force. You practically danced along the cliffside path, finding confident and sure footing with each step of the journey as Din moved along more slowly behind you, his steps more consciously chosen.

You ran up to the Bardottan woman who had set you on your journey, and smiled at her as you approached, Grogu cheering behind you. “ _Einama, so good to see you!”_

_“And you as well!”_ She smiled, coming over to hug you tightly. You didn’t think you would ever truly get enough of this, the physical touch and connection. Having been so isolated and rejected for so long, you felt as though the galaxy was limitless in its opportunities for connection, and you were incredibly grateful for it. _“I see my green friend has returned as well. Don’t worry little one, I’ve got food to share if you’re hungry.”_ She handed the kid a leg of... something, and he began to tear into it excitedly, his razor like teeth glinting. That was the only intimidating thing about him. Einama turned to face Din, her eyes taking in the sight of his beskar and armor. _“Mandalorian. We are grateful for your capture of the smuggler.”_

Din shuffled awkwardly, and you suddenly realized that you were not all speaking the same languages; the Force had lent itself to an ability to easily understand and communicate in foreign tongues, but you were the only one here who could translate. “She said that the people here are thankful to you for catching the smuggler,” you said, having to concentrate on your words and the way your mouth formed them as you slipped back into Basic, realizing you would have to act as a translator for the group.

“You can understand her?” Din asked, his voice holding a mix of both fear and wonder.

You nodded, suddenly conscious of yourself and worrying that Din might feel uncomfortable with this. He stared at you, his visor focused directly on your eyes, and you felt your cheeks grow hot at your admission and sense of anxiety that he would somehow be upset with you.

“That’s... incredible.” He finally said, the wonder overriding the fear that had previously been present. “Can you understand every language?”

You felt the blood receding from your burning cheeks as you sighed in relief, thankful that he wasn’t upset, and also preening a bit because he seemed so impressed with you. The fearsome bounty hunter, with a jet pack and blaster, was impressed by _you._ “It depends on the language. We spoke Basic on Eadu, but when travelers came through I was always able to… understand the languages they spoke. Some are easier for me to speak and understand, but ones that I haven’t come across before take a lot more effort.”

“And you can communicate with her for me? As a translator?”

“Most likely. It’s hard to, sort of, manipulate the Force to allow me to jump from one language to another. But I can try.” You had never been faced with this prospect before, as this propensity for languages had been one of the many talents that you had kept to yourself. You had quickly learned that these intriguing abilities would attract attention, and that was something that had never done you any favors before.

Din nodded, trying to understand. “Can you tell her that I know where the smuggler was hiding the items? The ones that she hadn’t sold yet.”

You turned back to Einama and tried to recall the way that the Bardottan language had felt when you had spoken it before. It took some more focus, but eventually you were able to find the words again. “ _Einama, my companion knows where some of the stolen items are hidden, ones that had not been sold yet.”_

She clapped her blue, webbed hands together in excitement and made noises that were unmistakably noises of joy — that was apparent regardless of language. “ _You should go to Ixxith. They will be very glad to hear this news.”_

Turning to face Din, you relayed her request. “We’ll go on to the temple, to meet with the spiritual guide. They will want to know about the items, and Grogu and I can possibly show your some of our other skills.” You smiled at him, hoping that he wasn’t too uncomfortable with this proposition — you didn’t know much about the Mandalorians and their connections with the Force. He nodded and stepped forward, trusting you to guide him on this new journey. You hugged Einama one last time and whispered both a thank you and a goodbye before departing.

The path to the temple had grown familiar to you, despite having only been here for about four standard days. You realized that you would miss this place, knowing that Din’s work — and yours, too —would necessitate that you say goodbye to the two friends you had made here. Such is the life you had chosen for yourself; and while you knew that Din would not force you to go with him, you also knew that given the choice, you would not choose to stay here without him. That was a goodbye that you were not willing to endure.

Crossing under the great stone arch of the temple, you gazed up at the artwork that filled it, committing each new sight to memory. You felt the charge in the air around you as you stepped back into this place that had offered you new powers and strengths. Ixxith was once again meditating, hovering off the ground but swaying back and forth gently. They noticed your presence and stepped down onto the cool grey stone, a tranquil smile on their face as you approached. “ _I sense excitement within you,”_ Ixxith observed.

_“My companion,”_ you began, gesturing towards Din, “ _has located the smuggler, and her store of stolen goods. He can provide you directions to them so they can be retrieved.”_

_“That is good news indeed. Have you come to tell us goodbye as well, seeing as the job is over?”_

_“Yes. But I would also like to show my companion some of my new skills.”_

_“Do you trust him?”_ Ixxith asked, and the bluntness of their question caught you off guard. You had never once questioned if you trusted Din; from the moment he had walked into your shop on Chandrila you knew that you could trust him. How thoughtful of Ixxith to ask this of you; sharing this progress was incredibly personal and revealing, and you appreciated that Ixxith was concerned enough with your wellbeing that they thought to ask.

You nodded at Ixxith, a wordless answer that still carried an enormous amount of weight. They nodded in response and extended his arm, an invitation to share whatever you desired. As you pondered what you would like to display first, you settled on something that Din had seen you do before so as not to scare him. You looked at Grogu, an eyebrow raised as you projected to him what you would like to do; he raised his little fists and grinned in excitement at your proposition. “Alright, so I’m certainly no Jedi, and I’m only able to do half of this stuff because I’m on this planet, but I wanted to show you a few things that I’ve been able to learn,” you babbled nervously to Din.

“You shouldn’t undervalue yourself like that,” Din said quietly, his voice only barely echoing across the polished stone walls. You felt yourself blush at his unexpected and public compliment, until you remembered that he was speaking Basic.

You smiled nervously at him as you took a few steps away from Grogu’s levitating cradle; reaching a hand out in front of you, palm open, you felt your eyes drift half-closed as you sank deeper into the radiating energy around you, feeling your grasp on it strengthen as you worked to manipulate it to your will. Through your half-lidded eyes you saw the kid rise up out of his cradle and hover steadily in the air; and curling your fingers back towards your chest, he moved through the air as though he was being carried until he landed squarely in your arms. As the weight of the kid landed against you, you felt a huge gust of an exhale move through you as your body worked to come back from that exertion. However, instead of that movement feeling like a marathon, it now felt like a warm-up. With each training, you grew stronger and stronger.

You waited for Din to say something in response, but you got no such reinforcement. Trying not to dwell too deeply on it, you placed the kid onto the ground next to you as he had an idea of something to share as well. Ixxith had picked up on the kid’s idea, and with a smile, they procured a piece of wood that had been set aside to keep the tall fire burning in the center of the temple. They placed it in front of the kid and you all stepped aside to watch what would happen next. You saw the wrinkles in Grogu’s forehead deepen with concentration, and you felt the energy around you shifting as Grogu pulled it and manipulated it, and then suddenly — the log burst into flames, yellow and red and orange that licked up the side of the wood, leaving black char and charcoal in its wake. “That was excellent, Grogu!” You said, praising the kid for his impressive feat. You had not yet managed that skill and had seen how long it had taken him to develop it.

Din still hadn’t commented on anything that he had seen. Maybe after having traversed the galaxy for years, he wasn’t as impressed by this show as you were. Or maybe he thought you were a freak, and he was going to sprint back to his ship and leave you here.

Ixxith’s voice carried across the temple to you, offering a gentle suggestion. “ _You worked exceptionally hard on another skill, my friend. I believe it would be appropriate to show this, and be proud of it. Few have been able to do what you have.”_

Ixxith was right. Whether Din was impressed or terrified, you had still developed yourself and your strength in ways that you had never thought would be possible, and you would no longer live in fear of yourself or hide out of shame. Setting your mind to it, you prepared yourself for what was the most taxing task yet — cloaking.

Hiding yourself was something that you had gotten quite good at, after a lifetime of abuse and distrust and exploitation; so it came as little surprise that this was something you had managed to do. Settling your body against the cool stone of the wall, you felt Din’s gaze follow you. He hadn’t run away just yet, so that was a good sign. Breathing deeply, you sank back into the stone that supported you, and visualized yourself growing smaller and smaller, more and more transparent with each passing breath. You wrapped the Force around your body like a cloak, feeling the heat and the buzzing energy of it surround your body as you worked to influence its perception, so those who were looking at the wall saw nothing but the smooth expanse of stone.

Feeling effectively camouflaged, you sat with this feeling for a bit, understanding that this ability had been constructed on your need for survival. As a child, you repressed and cloaked your own talents, hiding them from the world and working to blend in; however, being so young, you were often unsuccessful or had less of a desire to engage in the masking that kept you safe. Unnoticed. As you grew older, all you wanted was to be able to fit in, to blend with the world around you and carry out your life unseen and without any attention. And as you found your uses within Orron’s world, you had continued to hide yourself in both old and new fashions. You continued to hide your expanding abilities from him, not wanting to be exploited or used in another manner, as you were certain that if he knew you could do more, he would force you to do more. You also worked to hide yourself from his blinding rage and had, on a few occasions, deflected or evaded some of his harsher blows.

You had already lived a life of forced camouflage, so of course you were able to bend it to your will now. It was a skill you had been developing since you were old enough to walk. At first you had been saddened to come to this understanding, but as Ixxith had coached you, you acknowledged the feeling, sat with it, understood it, and then turned your focus back to the present and the future ahead of you.

Feeling yourself grow tired at the exertion that cloaking required, you let go of your grasp on the Force that had blanketed you and kept you concealed. You saw a proud look on Ixxith’s face, a happy look on Grogu’s face, and... nothing from Din. No cues, verbal or otherwise. You felt somewhat deflated by this, as you had been hoping to impress him or at least help him feel more confident in your own ability to keep yourself safe. You pushed yourself off of the stone and walked back to the group that was waiting for you with varying levels of excitement. Din pulled a device from his side that projected a map of the planet, that highlighted an area that seemed to be several miles away from where you were currently located.

“Can you tell them that this is where the artifacts are hidden?” Din finally spoke, his voice giving you absolutely zero indication of what he thought about what he had just witnessed. You pursed your lips and nodded, feeling somewhat angry and resentful that you had shown something so deeply personal and had gotten nothing in return.

Trying not to dwell on that feeling for longer than necessary, you explained to Ixxith where the items could be found. They thanked you heartily, and then stepped away for a moment, only to return with a metallic cord that held a teal-colored crystal. It was a necklace, you realized, as Ixxith handed it to you. They hugged you tightly and thanked you for the shared information. “ _Take this with you, and do not forget what you have learned here. Do not forget me. More importantly, do not forget who you are, even if you are not sure who that person is just yet.”_

You put on the necklace and thanked Ixxith again before turning to leave the temple. You were still upset with Din — he knew that you had been incessantly targeted and exploited for your Force abilities; and here you were, proudly showing him something that you had fought so hard to keep secret, and he gave you _absolutely nothing._ You knew that he was a man of few words, but this complete radio silence filled you with anger to the point your vision seemed a little bit red. Your footsteps carried you out of the temple as you assumed he would get the point and follow you, but the absence of noise caused you to pause for a moment as you stepped just outside the temple walls.

Not wanting to turn around and show weakness, you focused in on the sounds that you could hear within the temple, straining to understand what was happening without being able to rely on your sight. Suddenly, you heard a familiar Bardottan voice echo through the walls. And it was speaking... Basic. Not Bardottan.

“Your two friends are exceptionally powerful with the Force. There are many who will come looking for them. Are you prepared to keep them safe?”

Your heart raced as you listened further, needing to know how this conversation progressed.

“I am used to avoiding the eyes and the grasp of the Empire.”

“Ah, but it will not only be the Empire who comes looking for them. The New Republic, as promising as they may seem, seek to extend their power. I would hate to see them utilized for political gain.”

“How can I keep them safe?”

There was a long pause.

“I wish that I had an answer for you. Sadly, there are so few parts of this galaxy that have not been touched by political and religious ideologies that I fear nowhere is safe.”

You strained to hear the conversation that was growing quieter, trying to pull the sounds closer towards you.

“I would give my life to protect them.”

“I believe you, and yet let us hope that it does not come to that. You are strong in many ways, Mandalorian. Many ways that you may not yet realize.”

“Such as?”

“Something that is much stronger than even the Force.”

You and Din both waited for an answer, waited for the incredible insight that Ixxith offered.

“Love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Subjects referenced in this chapter can be found on Wookieepedia / starwars.fandom.com. Information may not be canonically accurate, aka 'author takes artistic liberties with the Force.' 
> 
> Force abilities: Comprehend Speech, Force Cloak / Camouflage, Combustion. 
> 
> Languages: Galactic Basic, Bardottan. 
> 
> Connect with me on Tumblr at dirty-holy-things.


	15. Chapter 15

_"I'd cut my soul into a million different pieces, just to form a constellation to light your way home. I'd write love poems to the parts of yourself you can't stand. I'd stand in the shadows of your heart and tell you, I'm not afraid of your dark." - Andrea Gibson_

Din had been completely floored by the display of power that he had seen within the cold stone walls of the Bardottan temple. He had been shaken to his core seeing the impressive acts that you and the kid had shared with him, and more than that, he was shaken by the fact that the both of you had _trusted_ him enough, felt _safe_ enough with him, to share something that had historically led to targets being placed on your backs. He had been speechless, unable to formulate a response to something that had honestly scared him shitless. He would have been lying to himself if he said it wasn’t terrifying. He had only ever met one Force-sensitive person before, and it was a Jedi who possessed incredible power. And now he witnessed the two individuals he loved the most, proudly showing him the terrifying talents that had developed during his absence. He didn’t know how to process the information that had been imparted to him, but he was suddenly struck by the knowledge that his companions were just as powerful and formidable as him — _if not more so_.

And the temple leader’s words continued to echo within him. It had been naive of him to assume that only the Empire would have interest in you; the hero of the New Republic was a Jedi himself, and it made sense that they would be seeking out individuals with similar powers to join their ranks. Din was not aligned with any particular political group, as he existed on the outskirts of society regardless of who was in power. There were always bounties regardless of who may have been in power — his carbonite didn’t discriminate between Republic and Empire, rebels or otherwise. _It all froze just the same._

But depending on who was in power, he realized, bounties could be placed on either one of you. He would never even remotely consider handing you over to anyone, but it did make him suddenly more aware that _others_ may come looking for you at some point. He may be forced to contend with a target on your back, and by association, one on his as well. Ixxith had been fair in asking if he was prepared to protect you, and he had been entirely honest when he had said that he would sacrifice himself for your survival. He had never felt as though his life had much of a purpose or an impact on the galaxy until he met you and the kid; and through your shared journeys he realized that maybe his life would mean something if it had been laid down out of love.

It had been challenging for Din to admit to himself that what he felt was love. It was an entirely foreign concept as he had not been exposed to it in decades, had not witnessed it in action before for many years. But thinking about how he had anchored himself to your voice as he fought against death, and had jeopardized his safety on more than one occasion to keep the kid alive, he slowly came to understand what was motivating these actions. Something had been growing in the spaces between the three of you, like an insistent flower that somehow grew through the stone surrounding it; and what had grown here, in the cracks of your lives, had bound you together in a way that could not be broken — not with time, weather, violence, even death.

The last time that Din had been familiar with love was when his parents had kissed him goodbye, and even that was a very faint and distant memory at this point, an undetermined number of years passing between; but what you shared with Din was similar in its intensity and unconditional nature, its encompassing and never-ending presence. Ixxith had been spot on when he assessed it for what it was — _love._ It had struck him like a blow to the face, softened only by the knowledge of what it was and how special it was. The word itself echoed within him like the conversations within the walls of the temple, reverberating throughout him and imparting a soft glow in every place that it landed. Finally having a word for what he experienced, it felt as though the significant weight of his years spent alone had been lifted from his shoulders. He wanted to run to you and tell you everything, to hold you close and thank you for being the bright spot in his galaxy. _To tell you he loves you._

Following his private interaction with Ixxith, he stepped out of the temple to see you tearful and absolutely _fuming._ A fearful spike of adrenaline running through him, he panicked as he wondered what could have possibly gone wrong in the few short moments that you had been separated. He reached out towards you, his hands instinctually finding their rightful place on you hips, and he pulled you into him despite the slight resistance that you offered. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He hated how artificial his voice sounded right now. He wished you could see the concerned look that had taken up residence on his face, pulling his brows together and the line of his lips downward.

He watched you swipe away the tears that had gathered in the corners of your eyes, sniffling as you tried to turn within his grasp. He felt his heart pick up its pace as he worried about what was upsetting you, what could be upsetting you to the point of trying to physically _avoid_ him.

“I’m —“ You started, your voice cracking before you continued, eyes rolling in frustration as you tried to shove away the tears that threatened to spill over your cheekbones. “I’m _angry_ , alright Din?” He could feel your eyes digging deeply into him and past the beskar, piercing his skin despite the clothing and armor that covered him. His heart raced at your honest admission, feeling the heavy pain of it take up residence in his throat.

“I spent my entire _f-fucking_ life hiding these abilities, and when I _choose_ to show you, you have absolutely nothing to say. I was — I was so p-proud of myself for what I was able to learn and you — what, you don’t even care? You had _nothing_ to say!”

Din’s head felt like it was spinning after all of the day’s upheaval. Trying to orient him to this place and this moment, he knew that he needed to focus on one thing and one thing only — repairing your trust in him. His hands moved from your waist to the small of your back, cradling you as gently against the beskar as he was able to. He wished more than anything that he could really, truly touch you and kiss you right now, but the armor was an impenetrable and insurmountable barrier. He tried to find the right words, settling on the ones that would hopefully able to soothe you. “I’m sorry. I am so sorry.” He sighed your name through the modulator before continuing on. “I know how much… how much that meant to you, and I’m so proud of you both for what you learned. You’re incredible and you amaze me every day. It just took me a minute to... catch up to you, to find the right words.”

He felt you gradually begin to relax underneath his body, and he sighed in gratefulness and relied as he felt your hands pressing into him, holding him tightly. He felt you sniffle, and he moved his hands up to your face to wipe away the few small tears that were lingering on your cheeks. “I am so proud of you.”

“Thank you, Din,” you whispered, kissing the leather glove that covered his hand and gods, how he wished so desperately that he could be uncovered with you, cloaked by darkness and enjoying its security. You laughed quietly and smiled, and he was so incredibly grateful to see that smile spread across your face. _He would spend his whole life chasing after that smile, if you’d let him._

“Did you really think it was _that_ impressive?”

“The kid set a log on fire with his mind. You disappeared into thin air. Of course it’s fucking impressive.” He couldn’t believe that you even had to ask. You both laughed at his blunt assessment, knowing that while it was blunt it was entirely accurate. “Speaking of which, where is the kid?” Din pressed the button on his vambrace that would bring the cradle to his side, and you both watched the cradle sail out of the temple and next to Din’s side, a confused and disoriented Grogu contained within it. “Ready to go?”

Grogu looked at you and the two of you nodded, knowing that your goodbyes had been said and that it was time to depart from this gorgeous planet. Din found himself wondering what else he might have missed during his previous absences; he had hated leaving the two of you, it felt as though he had left his heart behind, and he had clearly missed out on the growth that you and Grogu had shared here. He wondered about the memories that you and the kid had made on Coruscant while he was gone, wondered about your day spent apart in Canto Bight. He was incredibly grateful that you and Grogu had each other to cling to, but there was also a part of him that resented his job and how in necessitated he spend so much time away.

Din followed your lead through the mountain city, loving to see the way that you radiated among the clouds that glowed in the sunset; you would have been beautiful on any planet, but here, connected with the Force, you were ethereal in a way Din had never seen before. The light wrapped around your skin in a way that was unlike anything he had seen before; he knew you had looked beautiful in Canto Bight, but this was different. You radiated... _confidence_ , a surety of yourself that Din had never seen from you before. The capitol of the planet was a beautiful city, made even more beautiful by your presence within it, and Din was happy to know that you had enjoyed your time here.

Other trips, other quarries, may not be quite as enjoyable; he thought of his upcoming stop on Corellia and felt his face turn up in disgust at the thought of the dirty, industrial planet. You deserved to be in a more beautiful place than that, and yet you chose to stay with Din, choosing him over any other offered lifestyle. You had seen the lavish lifestyle on Canto Bight, you had connected with the Force here on Bardotta, and yet you chose Din time and time again. His heart soared at this knowledge, at the knowledge of being _chosen_.

The clouds passed around the three of you as the journey wove along the razor-thin cliffsides of the planet, until the sight of the Razor Crest appeared along the horizon. The familiarity of the Razor Crest was comforting, and as the three of you returned home, Din felt peace at knowing that his family was safe and back in his care.

_Family. Love. Incredible how things have changed._

You all settled into your typical roles and placements, as you strapped the kid into his modified seat to Din’s right, and settled in your seat just to his left. The pilot’s seat was comfortably his, the leather having melded to accommodate his beskar-clad frame perfectly through the years. He felt himself sink into the muscle memory of piloting the ship; and the mountaintops offered just enough of a challenge to make it fun to achieve the upper layers of the planet’s atmosphere. Din felt a rush of confidence and excitement as you watched him navigate the ship through the tips of the tallest mountains, an impressed look having taken up residence on your face. You could levitate objects with your mind, and yet here you were, starstruck by his ability to fly a ship. He continued to guide the Razor Crest through the upper levels of atmosphere, until he had finally left the planet behind, the entire span of the galaxy stretching out before you.

You were the first to speak up, your curiosity having gotten the best of you. “Where are we going from here?”

“Corellia,” Din grunted, hating that this was the truth of the matter. “Spice runner disappeared with a shipload of drugs and money while on the job.”

You were quiet for several moments, likely pondering your next question. “Is this something that... that I could help with?”

Din pursed his lips behind the helmet. He could understand that the help you offered was consensual, and also led to an astronomical rise in payouts, but he also remembered how he had wanted to take Zhalto’s head clean off his shoulders when he had just touched your hand; and that was before Din had loved you. What if a situation escalated, or if you got hurt? How would he manage to cope with something such as a man trying to _kiss_ you? The entire point of a live bounty would be lost because Din would _gleefully_ murder someone for making such a trespass.

But you were a grown woman, and he could see that you had incredible potential once his personal attachments and feelings were removed from the situation. He had seen the Force abilities you had shared with him, had seen that you were capable of keeping yourself alive through periods of his absence, and periods of life spent being abused. You were much more resilient than Din wanted to believe. And for all of your resilience, understanding its origins, he just wanted to keep you safe, not place you in jeopardizing positions; he wanted to you never face a day of resilience again. But he also understood that at the end of the day, this was your decision to make, to volunteer to assist. “That’s a strategy that we could consider.”

It seemed a diplomatic enough answer to satisfy you.

“Bardotta was a beautiful planet, and I loved getting to explore it. Corellia doesn’t have quite... quite the same draw. I’d like to have something to do, some way to be helpful.” Din could hear the trepidation in your voice, trying to handle this conversation delicately and not cause any upset between the two of you.

And yours was a fair assessment. Corellia was quite frankly a shit hole, and while he didn’t love the idea of you being on the surface of the dirty and scummy planet, he did like the idea that he would be able to keep you within his sights and keep you safe. And the bounty you had assisted with on Cantonica was certainly shorter and easier than any he had dealt with before; and shorter bounties meant more time with you.

_Actually, no— the shortest bounty was the one on Chandrila, the one that brought him to you, for the man formerly known as Orron._

You had done the most challenging part of the job for him — dispatching the quarry. He vividly remembered the terror and rage that stormed behind your eyes after he entered the room to see the man bleeding on the floor. He had never seen anyone look like that before. He wasn’t sure he ever wanted to see that again, from you or anyone else.

Din still struggled with the knowledge that someone had hurt and abused you. It was sickening and entirely despicable; as such, he was actually incredibly proud of you for fighting back and killing the bastard. He was also _secretly_ proud of you for stabbing him in an area that was not _necessarily_ fatal, but allowed for a very slow, exceptionally conscious and painful death; he knew you likely hadn’t intended it that way, but Din got satisfaction from the knowledge just the same. Din often tried to suppress this more violent side of himself, but after he had glimpsed the purple and black handprints that had been left on your neck, he knew that the man had gone out much more painlessly from your attack than if Din had anything to do with him.

This thought of you joining him on another bounty caused a complex, churning mix of feelings to arise within Din. So many things had changed from Chandrila to Corellia, and it was a _lot_ to try and sort through, especially given that Din had spent so much of his life actively avoiding emotions. He didn’t particularly want to have this conversation right now; if anything, he wanted to set the course for Corellia and then crawl into bed with you, wanting to make up for the lost time while the ship and its passengers hurtled recklessly through space.

So that’s precisely what he offered you.

“We’ve got about 12 hours before we reach Corellia. Would you want to get some rest?” He asked, trying to hide the desperation in his voice. After having called his feelings for what they are — _love —_ he felt incredibly nervous and all he wanted was to feel your body wrapped against his, the warmth radiating between you, while the darkness covered the cabin like a heavy blanket.

He waited somewhat patiently for your response. “I think that would be a good idea. Would you want to join me?” He sighed in relief at your proposition, feeling grateful that you wanted to be next to him, seeing as how you had been upset with him earlier. Din nodded and finished setting the ship’s course for Corellia, before scooping the kid into his arms and glancing at you, a subtle tilt of his helmet indicating his intentions to leave the cockpit.

You led him out and Din didn’t resist his temptation to admire your legs and your ass as they moved within the olive green pants that you wore. He wanted to put his hands on you, _feel those thighs around his neck again —_

He tried to snap himself out of this sensual reverie as you placed the kid into his cradle. The interior lights of the cabin faintly illuminated the area, and he stared on in wonder as you began to remove your clothing, a flush spreading across your face as you brazenly stood in front of him in nothing but your underclothes. Sadly, the scene in front of him came to a close all too quickly as you finished getting dressed for bed, and his heart sank just a bit in disappointment.

“I’ll meet you in the bunk,” he heard you whisper. Before Din’s heart and head were able to catch up with everything that was happening, the light in the cabin flicked off and the two of you were plunged back into the familiar darkness that allowed for your connection and contact. Din rushed to pry the beskar off of himself, stripping himself from all of his protections until he was comparably clothed, and he moved to join you in the bunk.

You were already under the blanket that the two of you shared, taking up the majority of it as you had wrapped yourself into it like a cocoon. Din tugged at the corners, trying to inch his way into the warm and cozy fortress you had built around yourself; thankfully, you understood Din’s intentions and flung the blanket around him, covering his broad shoulders and narrow hips as you shuffled closer into him. He felt your delicate and incredibly soft hands tracing across his body and he sighed contentedly as he buried his face in your hair.

He had grown much more comfortable removing his helmet in your presence. The premise of darkness and the confidence that you couldn’t see his face was a bit of a stretch of his vow, his creed, but... there was a piece of himself that knew he was starting to loosen his grip. He also fully trusted you to never violate the delicate and unspoken promise that existed between you, feeling confident in the knowledge that you had never asked him to share anything with you that he didn’t initiate.

Reflecting on this, he realized that you likely knew very little about him. You had never asked him about his childhood, his parents, his likes or his dislikes. He had never asked you either.

_For being in love with you, he knew very little about you —but he wanted to know it all, and he wanted to give you the opportunity to ask him questions, to know him in ways that nobody else would._

He pulled your frame closer into his, loving how you casually draped your leg across his thigh as your bodies pressed together. Feeling his heart race at this idea of knowing you better, he decided to ask you a question. It was simple in its nature, and yet the intimacy of it set off a degree of embarrassment within him.

“What’s your favorite color?” Din asked, his unmodulated voice barely above a whisper.

He felt the blood rush to his cheeks, the heat of his embarrassment spreading across his face as he waited for you to say something. You were quiet for a moment and Din wondered if his question had just been _that_ fucking dumb.

“Pink,” you responded softly. “I like the gentleness and femininity of it. It feels innocent and romantic. And... it’s the color of life. Babies come out pink and screaming. Faces flush pink when someone’s angry, or embarrassed, or excited.”

Din felt his chest constrict with your answer; he had expected a one-word reply, but the openness with which you explained yourself was as sweet as the color you described to him. Of course you would love something beautiful and bright and full of life; you echoed this in your everyday life with him.

“What’s your favorite color?” Din heard you ask in response.

He had never really thought of it before. Nobody had asked him, and he didn’t need to know the answer to work or live his life. He had seen many beautiful things in the galaxy, yourself included, but hadn’t stopped to think about what he would consider a favorite, to think about what created the most response within himself. Reflecting back on a lifetime of experiences, he settled on something that seemed reasonable to call a favorite.

“Orange,” he began, trying to formulate the same kind of thoughtful explanation that you had offered him. “It’s... warm, and the heat of it will come through just about anything. I can feel sunsets, or a fire, even with all of the armor. It’s bright, and it’s the opposite of all of the metal that I see every day.” He felt incredibly nervous for some reason at this admission, but overriding the nervousness was a sense of trust. Trust that prompted him to ask additional questions, knowing that you would then turn the same ones back to him.

“Do you know when your birthday is?” It was a question that was simple in its nature and didn’t prompt quite the same level of insight, but was still intimate knowledge to possess.

“No, not a specific date. I think it was sometime in the summer though.” You whispered to Din in response. “There wasn’t much timekeeping that lined up with the Galactic Calendar on Eadu, and by the time I got to Chandrila it didn’t really matter. Do you know yours?”

Din shook his head, feeling the scruff of his cheek run across your smooth skin. “I don’t know mine either, or even what season it was.”

He paused for a moment before deciding to share further, even though it had not been prompted by a question. “But... I think I’m somewhere around thirty-five, give or take some years.” Din had known since he met you that you were certainly younger than him, but he had been curious to know just how wide that margin may be. He had given you little that would provide a reference for his age, as you had never seen his face; had never seen the brown eyes that stared back at him in the mirror, had never seen the fine lines that had taken up residence there and the grey hairs that had crept up along his hairline.

_Would you think he was too old for you now?_ He felt another wave of nervousness return, noticing that these feelings came and went like waves of the ocean, repeatedly being drawn away from the shore before rushing back. 

You hummed quietly into his chest, seemingly unperturbed by his age. You hadn’t moved away from him, or run off screaming, as he had worried you might. “I’d guess I’m somewhere in the range of late twenties, but that’s more of an estimate,” you offered in return.

Din exhaled softly into you, his lips ghosting across your forehead as he kissed you. _Gods, you were young. So young, and the universe had dealt you a shitty hand in that short time. It was both incredible and unfair that you had been forced to endure it all._

Din recalled how recklessly and aggressively he lived his life at your age, and was impressed by the maturity that you showed. A new worry arose within him, a worry that maybe someday you would want to venture out into the galaxy alone, to explore and conquer as he once did, rather than be confined as you were now. Was he preventing you from living a different life? Was he slowing you down, holding you back? He tried to work through his own insecurities, as he recounted all of the times that you had actively _chosen_ him, independent of any pressure or influence; you were with him because you wanted to be. He should trust that, he should trust you. 

You were the one to initiate the next question, much to Din’s surprise, breaking the previous pattern of inquiry. “What do you like to eat? I don’t think I’ve ever really seen you eat before.”

Din wasn’t sure that he had a satisfactory answer for you. “I’m... I’ll eat whatever’s available. Taking my helmet off to eat makes it tough to eat in public, so I haven’t tried much. Food is just a matter of... function, for me.” He recalled that he had sneakily eaten one of the cookies that you had picked up on Coruscant, and had enjoyed the sweetness immensely. _Another sweet thing that you had brought into his world._

“I always enjoyed helping Aumiyat bake sweets for her shop. She made these pastries that were so soft and sweet, and those with a strong cup of coffee was probably my favorite thing.” He could hear the longing in your voice and he gently ran his uncovered hand along your spine, his thumb pressing gently into you, hoping it would provide you comfort. Din could picture you and the wiry woman from Chandrila bustling around a cafe, flitting in and out of the kitchen, hands working delicately and determinedly to produce the kinds of goods that Din often saw in shop windows but never purchased for himself. It was a saccharine and domestic sight to behold, theoretical though it may be, and Din thought that if given the opportunity, he could have sat in that very same cafe for hours, contentedly watching you create.

He settled on another question to ask, basking in all of the insight that this had brought him. “Do you prefer warm or cold weather?”

“Warm weather. Chandrila was beautiful almost year round; I could grow flowers, I could swim, I could walk through the hills and fields almost any time of year.” Din knew that you had been in an unfortunate situation on Chandrila, but you had also clearly given up a great number of pleasant things to travel with him _._ He felt a growing sense of guilt for your deprivation from these things, his previous worries starting to push back against him. Your answer to his question continued however, pulling his thoughts away from the growing sadness. “I do like the cold sometimes though — like at night, when I’m in bed, because then I can get cozy with several blankets. It sounds odd, but it’s actually really nice.”

Din made a mental note to check the internal temp of the Razor Crest, and to pick up another blanket for you _. A nice, soft one — you deserved that. Maybe even pink._

He realized that you were still waiting for a response from him, seeking to continue the pattern of questions and answers. “I don’t think I have much of a preference for warm or cold. But I don’t mind the days when… when it rains, if I’m on a planet that gets rain. Those days are calm. The world slows down.” His own response surprised him a bit, but he found himself recalling a fond memory of spending a quiet afternoon in a cafe with Grogu, watching the rain fall outside, keeping the streets empty. Things felt good that day. Stable, calm, peaceful.

“It rained on Eadu a lot,” you shared with a sigh. “The people working there — my people, my family — they weren’t deterred by a bit of rain, worked right through it actually. I remember my mother once yelled at me though, because I jumped in a massive mud puddle and ruined my good clothes.”

Din had rarely heard you mention your family, and he never asked you about them, knowing that it was a sensitive subject, and he would never want to force you to relive something that was clearly fraught with pain. But his curiosity couldn’t be easily denied now that you had shared this one small story; so, hoping to encourage you to share more, he offered up a childhood story of his own. One of the few that he had. “I remember one of the few time it rained on my home planet. It was dry there, could go for a long time without rain. It felt... strange, on my skin, but everyone in my village was outside standing in it, trying to enjoy it and remember it, since it was so rare… I tracked mud into the house, but my mother helped me clean it up.”

“She sounds kind,” you whispered, your voice sounding constricted by some hidden emotion. “My father... He was kind to me, even though he was afraid of me. He liked to teach me things, like... how to whistle. How to throw a punch. Small things like that.” Din could hear the tears hovering on the edge of your shaking voice, and he wasn’t entirely sure what to do — should he change the subject? Should he kiss you? He decided to offer you the same kindness you always offered him; he held you closer against him, legs intertwining with yours, and allowed you to share whatever you saw fit.

“My mother taught me about flowers, how to grow them. But she was more afraid of me, especially as I got older. She was relieved when my sister came out... normal. But after a while I... I chose to leave them. I never really even told them goodbye.” At that last sentence, Din felt tears beginning to prick at his eyes as he thought of the goodbye he experienced with his own parents, as he thought about how each of your goodbyes were different but echoed the same pain of deprivation and loss.

“My parents were... killed. Their village was attacked. But they kept me safe, and hidden. I was young and didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t get to say goodbye either.” Din remembered the look on his mother’s face as she closed the door to hide him, and although the image had grown fuzzy with time, the raw emotion of it remained. He felt the tears flowing steadily across his face, dripping off of his jawline and onto your cheek that was nestled against his chest.

He had never spoken with anyone before about this; the foundlings and Mandalorians he trained with never cared for any personal matters, and he had been isolated for the majority of his adult life, never having anyone to share this with. Uprooting his past and speaking it out loud was overwhelming and terrifying, but there was some sort of brightness that glimmered in the place where he had once buried these feelings and stories. It was painful, but almost a _healthy_ kind of painful, to finally speak these things aloud. To bring them out from the depths and into the light, as uncomfortable as it may be.

_Wounds need air to heal._

You shifted around in the small confines of the bunk until you were resting your body on top of Din’s, your arms reaching up around his shoulders to allow you to bury your hands in his hair. The tears still flowed from him, and an unexpected drop on his ear brought him to the realization that you were crying as well. He took a deep breath, the expansion of his chest raising your small frame up with his inhalation. He cradled you tightly against him, and he felt your lips come down to press gently against his. He could taste the salt of tears on your lips, and he wasn’t sure who they belonged to, but it didn’t matter. _You were here with him. You had chosen him, over all of the things in your life that had come along before he had._

The tears slowly began to dry as the two of you shared more gentle kisses, until the both of you were undeniably smiling. Exhausted from the emotional upheaval, you both fell into sleep with ease.

_How beautiful it is to be loved intentionally, to be loved on purpose._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connect with me on Tumblr at dirty-holy-things.
> 
> And thank you to all of the wonderful folks who have read, left kudos, and written sweet comments. You all are the highlight of my day.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEW, this chapter is SPICY, friends. We are 18+ and explicit. Finally getting into the 'burn' of the slow burn. No real warnings, aside from unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it, as this is a fictional story). Do as I say, not as Reader does.

_"Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us. These, our bodies, possessed by light. Tell me we'll never get used to it." - Richard Siken, Scheherazade_

The things that you had heard in passing about Corellia were too kind in their assessment, and they had been harsh to start. There was a filmy scum that lingered in the air and clung to clothing, surfaces, even to the air in your lungs. The industrial planet was bleak and grim, and you were almost beginning to regret your offer to assist Din with this bounty; would it have _really_ been so bad to hunker down here in the ship, sleep for a while, maybe even pick up a book in town to keep you entertained? However, you also knew that if you had to spend an undetermined amount of time cooped up in the ship, without Din, trying to manage the kid on your own, no view except that of a dirty industrial cityscape, being constantly terrified that Din could get hurt again — _you would probably lose your mind_. So you decided to step out into the grisly world of Corellia, Din at your side. 

The towers of steel and metal that warped up towards the sky were certainly a departure from the organic beauty of Bardotta that you had grown accustomed to during the last job. You tried to find _something_ appealing in the architecture, your eyes scanning the horizon, and came to the conclusion that there was certainly... dedication and precision in the construction, and that was something that you could appreciate. _You needed to find something agreeable within it all._

The kid was sleeping in his cradle, the wampa having been tucked under his short green arm, left to rest in the ship during the course of what was predicted to be a short job. Din navigated the two of you through the dirty, narrow streets of the city and away from the shipyard. He didn’t seem to notice or mind the filth too much, as he stomped onwards through puddles, mud, trash, splashing it onto his clothing and armor — and being a bit more hygienically minded, you took the extra effort to keep yourself clean as you sidestepped what could reasonably be avoided. It was unnecessary self-preservation as the cleanliness of your boots _probably_ didn’t matter much in the grand scheme of things, but it was just in your nature.

Din was leading you both to a well-concealed speakeasy, known for hosting an intriguing assortment of characters that preferred to avoid the prying eyes of the galaxy, and partake in... questionable activities. Din had made contact with an acquaintance who was able to provide you with instructions for how to enter into the underground club, including the password that was changed frequently specifically to _avoid_ situations like yours. It was mean to be a safe haven for the rich and powerful; there would be drinking, music, smoking, gambling, bloodshed, prostitution, drugs, fighting, and that was on a _quiet_ night. _Gods only knew what else the oncoming evening could hold._ You weren’t particularly worried, however, knowing that the towering bounty hunter that stalked along in front of you would keep you safe if worst came to worst. And you didn’t have any significant worries about this job, the nature of it being simple and familiar.

The setup of this job was similar to the one you had helped with back on Canto Bight; you’d flirt with the target, have a drink, bat your eyelashes, and draw him away from the crowd with a thinly veiled proposition. It wasn’t rocket science, luring a man; there were quite a lot of things in life that were harder, like navigating a ship or even firing a blaster. And yet Din seemed incredibly nervous and stressed on your behalf, holding enough worry for the two of you. While you had grown used to periods of silence from him, this one felt _different_. This one had an undercurrent of tension that rolled off of him in waves, so thick you could almost see it — _or maybe that was just Corellia, and you were reading too much into this._

The sun was beginning to set along the horizon, reflecting beams of orange and crimson and gold throughout the city’s structure; you remembered how Din had shared with you that his favorite color was orange, and you wondered if he was finding some sort of beauty in this moment as well, or if he had even noticed. He hadn’t said anything to you for quite some time now, having navigated you from the outskirts of the city and its shipyard, to the bustling urban center that housed a variety of species and droids that were frankly quite _rude_. You had been bumped into on more than one occasion without so much as an ‘ _excuse me._ ’ You figured you had just grown used to the niceties that were afforded on a planet like Chandrila, and reminded yourself that you had chosen to leave that place in favor of travel — which would include a change in attitudes and social customs. _You_ still made a point to apologize to those you collided with though.

Having seen the industriousness of the capitol city here on Corellia, you were increasingly intrigued by what this speakeasy experience would be like. Din had informed you that it was a popular spot for those working with Crimson Dawn, the Hutts, the Pyke Syndicate — violent, ruthless individuals. The target for this evening was a Twi’lek who had been working for the Hutts, who had _‘mysteriously’_ disappeared with a large shipment of spice; it was suspected that he had run off with it for himself, feeling brave enough to try and hide. It was a stupid choice, even _you_ knew that — while Orron had never tell you much about the spice dealings, you still knew that double crossing the Hutts was borderline suicidal. The sheer confidence and conceit of such a bold move was intriguing, that couldn’t be denied; but hiding from the Hutts was nearly impossible, and his bold stupidity would be catching up with him today.

You had worked to prepare yourself adequately for the evening, having brought along a pack of supplies that would transform you into an appealing bait prior to your arrival. You had correctly assumed that dressing for a party before trekking through the city would be a poor decision, and you applauded yourself for your foresight, seeing the grim state that your clothing was now in. The sun was descending lower into the skyline and you knew that you were getting close to the destination, based on the projected timeline for the job.

Picking up the pace so you were now walking in stride with Din, you tilted your head in the direction of a small shop that would likely afford you some space in a fresher to change and finish preparing. He nodded silently in agreement and you disappeared inside, finding a young boy with mousy blonde hair sleeping behind the counter. He was startled awake by your unexpected entrance, and you tossed him some credits to accompany your question about where you would locate a fresher. He pointed to the back of the store wordlessly and you thanked him before disappearing.

You closed the door behind you and locked it securely, before stripping out of the clothes that had accumulated a fair amount of muck in the past hour’s journey. You wriggled your way into a sparkling silver dress that just barely skimmed your thighs, admiring the shimmer of the sheer fabric as it clung to your body. The dress choice had been intentional, the versatility of it appealing; you knew it would sparkle like diamonds when caught by bright lights, and would set off a soft, illuminating glow in low light. Either way, eyes would be drawn to you. You slid on a pair of white boots that propelled yourself a good four inches higher into the air, and added a few pieces of jewelry to round out the look. You pulled your hair out of the buns you had tied it up in, as it now fell around your shoulders in casual waves, and you put on just enough makeup to highlight your features. Assessing that you looked enticing enough, you slid back into your dark grey coat that would hide your glamorous appearance from the city-dwellers until your arrival at the club.

As you stepped out of the shop to rejoin your companion, you readied yourself to say goodbye for the evening, trying to shift your perspective to the job at hand rather than the part of you that was incredibly sad to be parted from Din. Even knowing that the separation was only temporary, you would still be eagerly looking forward to being reunited. Staring up into the visor of the helmet, you stepped closer to him and placed your arms on his hips, wanting to pull him in closely but also understanding that it may not be an appropriate choice as you were out in public. He placed a gloved hand on your shoulder and another on the small of your back, the helmet coming to rest against your forehead.

“Do you have the blaster? And the knife?” He asked, his voice sounding constricted even with the modulator. You were getting better at deciphering that which the modulator tried to hide.

“I’ve got the knife, but the blaster doesn’t really go with this outfit,” you joked, reassuring him that you were protected. “This’ll be easy, I promise.” You whispered, trying to build up his confidence and sense of security. “Just like last time. We can get the job over with quickly, and then go home.”

You heard a soft sigh come through the modulator as he nodded. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll see you soon, Din.”

***

Getting into the club had been ridiculously easy, especially once the guard at the door saw the way that you were dressed. For being so secretive of a club, you were shocked at the ease with which you were able to sneak in; you assumed that they just didn’t worry too much when a beautiful young woman turned up at their door. Din was going to take more of a… back-door route into the club, dispatching the guard who protected the service entrance, and he would find a discreet place to hide and watch out for you and the target. You had kept the knife, and the comm that was connected to his, and you would alert him when you had lured the Twi’lek away from the party and the crowd. Din would then join the two of you, disarm and cuff the target, and then you would go home to the Razor Crest. It was a simple plan, with a hefty payout for an evening of easy work.

... _Or so you had thought_.

Having stepped into the dimly-lit club, your eyes took a moment to adjust and take in the scene around you. Low-slung leather chairs and booths were scattered throughout the dark room, their occupants being some of the more fearful individuals in the galaxy. These cruel and cunning men, however, were in varying states of disarray due to the large amounts of alcohol and spice that were brazenly displayed on the tables they were seated at. In addition to the smoke-stained booths, there were several raised platforms that held women who were twisting themselves around metallic poles, their bodies scantily clad as they danced sensually for the crowd of drunken onlookers.

And that was where you would find yourself shortly after being allowed into the club.

_They had assumed you were one of the dancers._

A large, burly man grabbed you by the arm and you instinctively threw your elbow back into his gut at the sudden intrusion of your personal space, your arm connecting with a solid expanse of hard muscle. “C’mon, babydoll, don’t be so sensitive,” the man grumbled, hauling you towards the unoccupied pedestal. “Do your fucking job and don’t bitch about it.” He tossed you forward into the velvet-covered platform, and as you caught yourself on your hands, you understood that you had about three seconds to decide what you were going to do next.

_Do you confront the man about the mistaken identity, and risk causing a scene? Risk losing the bounty, or possibly getting yourself hurt once they realize you’re not meant to be here?_

_Or do you get up there and find a way to make this unexpected plot change work for you?_

You bit the inside of your lip to the point of bleeding as you quickly came to your decision. You brought yourself up onto the well-worn, blood red platform and into the blisteringly hot stage lights that were turned on you and the other dancers; taking a moment to pretend to bask in the cheers and lewd hollers that followed your entrance, you tried to get a feel for the rhythm of the music that you would now have to dance to.

_Fuck, let’s hope they’re high enough to believe this._

Closing your eyes, you sank into the rhythm and melody of the music that the band was playing, and you began to move your body in time with it, trying to put on a show despite never having danced before a day in your life. _This would be an awfully convenient time for some Force abilities to show up._

You had no such luck, but the drugged and drunk patrons didn’t seem to mind much; you were there for their amusement and pleasure, to fuel their egos and sense of power. You were also just one of several dancers; subtly turning, you observed the others so you could try and copy their fluid and sensual movements, the muscles in your thighs and core being worked in ways that you had not experienced before. You kept an eye out in the room for the target, and eventually you spotted him sitting about three booths away, a group of nasty looking mercenaries at his side.

_Alright, let’s get this over with before my legs give out._

Batting your painted eyelashes at him, you winked at the Twi’lek and blew him a kiss before turning your focus back to the dance that you were trying to pull off.

The band changed songs, and the other dancers kept going, adjusting to the new tempo and you assumed that’s what was expected of you as well. You wondered when this would end, when you would have an opportunity to get this night over with — your legs were burning as you stretched, bent, spun, flexed in different and new ways, all while trying to maintain _some_ semblance of decency — _you didn’t want anyone but Din to look at you how these men were_.

Keeping your focus on the target, you saw the Twi’lek man gesture to the burly man who had brought you up here; a quiet conversation took place during which he pointed directly at you, and then you witnessed the Twi’lek hand the man a stack of Imperial credits.

_He was buying you._

It was a departure from the original plan, but then again everything about this night had been. The original plan had been left in the dust, and you just hoped that Din would be able to keep pace with the changes. Following the men’s transaction, you watched as the Twi’lek disappeared through a hallway into a private room, and the large man made his way to the platform you had been brought to. Coming to a halt in front of you, he grunted something entirely unintelligible over the sounds of the music and the crowd, but the meaning was not lost on you. _Your services had been bought._

You climbed down from the platform, the glow of the hot stage light leaving you, and you sighed in relief; the man pointed in the general direction of where the Twi’lek had gone and you wordlessly took your cue to join him. Slinking your way through the tables, you ran your hand along the knife that had been carefully concealed, hidden underneath your dress and pressed against your ribs; you were suddenly very grateful for Din’s insistence that you carry it. You then retrieved the small comm from the bosom of your dress, having cleverly hidden it there; you pressed the button on the side _once, twice, three times_ , alerting him that you were moving and the final phase of the plan was in action.

You arrived at the end of the hallway to find the door to the private room; it was one of many discreet doors, but this was the only one that was cracked just slightly to indicate to you where to go. Feeling your heart start to race, you hoped that Din would be close behind you, as the thought of being alone with this man for an extended period of time was admittedly quite terrifying; the thought that he had bought your... _services,_ and would be expecting you to engage accordingly, made your skin crawl. The nervousness that you hadn’t felt previously was starting to catch up with you, and you had a bit more understanding of why Din had been as concerned as he was.

You could feel an acidic, stabbing pain of nervousness in your gut as your feet carried you closer and closer to the dark walnut door. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, pushing that nervousness and fear away, you knocked softly on the door to indicate your arrival. You stepped into what was a surprisingly clean and relatively quiet room; it was free from the colorful and flashing lights of the rest of the club, instead being dimly lit with candles that illuminated comfortable-looking furniture, and a table with a bottle of sparkling wine.

You turned your gaze to the Twi’lek in front of you; he wasn’t unattractive, but the fact that he had the _audacity_ to try and purchase sex from a woman — _no, he wasn’t even purchasing sex from a woman, it was from a fucking pimp —_ was nauseating, and the smugness that rolled off of him threatened to make your nose turn up in disgust. Forcing aside your personal assessments, you smiled at him and took a seat next to him before pouring you each a glass of wine. You knew you needed to focus on playing your role and getting the job over with.

Taking a sip of the wine you had poured, the carbonation tickled your nose and you giggled instinctively, not accustomed to the sensation. The man took it as an indication of interest, however, and his hand moved to your upper thigh, pushing the hem of your dress to the side. He downed the rest of his drink quickly before turning to place his other hand on your shoulder — and then his body was moving closer and closer towards yours, and your heart _pounded,_ your head _screamed_ at you to _get the fuck out of here, where is Din, fuck, should I kill this guy?_

Right at the moment that you had moved to make a grab for your knife, the heavy wooden door you had walked through opened quietly and you breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the beskar that glowed in the lamplight. The Twi’lek kept his hands where they were on your body, but turned from you to speak to the intruder, growling, “Hey buddy, get the fuck outta here, can’t you see we’re busy?”

You winced and concealed a laugh, knowing that while this man may not die tonight, he would _not_ be feeling too great once Din was done with him. The door closed and the three of you were concealed from the party, contained in the privacy of the room together. Before the man had time to touch you any further, Din reached out to grab the Twi’lek and roughly hauled him off of you, only _slightly_ throwing his body into the glass table that shattered on impact.

You didn’t need to see Din’s face to know that he was absolutely _livid._ Having been removed from the unwanted grasp of the Twi’lek, knowing that you and Din were both safe, there was a part of you that got a sort of thrill from the protectiveness that Din displayed for you. It was also shockingly and undeniably attractive watching him rough the guy up, and your biological, hormonalresponse to the sight caught you a bit off guard.

The Twi’lek was unconscious, but thankfully not dead; after having been thrown through a glass table by your protector, he was... quite _easy_ to disarm and handcuff. After Din had thoroughly secured the situation at hand, he stomped over to you angrily, the force of his steps echoing around you, and you could feel the rage and possessiveness that was positively boiling underneath the armor. “Are you alright?” He asked brusquely, pulling your scantily clad body into his heavily covered one.

“Yes, Din, I’m fine — things didn’t go exactly to plan, but I’m—“

He cut you off as he brought his hand down to cover your eyes— surprised, you started to recoil on instinct, until you heard the click of his helmet being removed; and then his lips were on yours, kissing you greedily and intensely in a way that you had never experienced before. Instinctively, your hands reached out to pull him closer into you and you were hit by an absolute tidal wave of _need_ for him. You bit down on his lip, an animalistic drive taking over your body, and he _growled_ underneath you. “Fuck,” he grunted, pulling away from you but keeping his hand securely over your eyes. “Fuck, fuck, _not here — get you home —“_

You weren’t sure if he was talking to you or not, but you whined as your body screamed out for more contact, more attention than what you were receiving. You heard the helmet click back into place and your chest deflated, knowing that you would not be getting what you needed; at least not yet. His hand moved away from your eyes and you saw Din standing in front of you, breathing heavily and roughly. You clearly weren’t alone in your own desires, but Din at least had the foresight to know that _this was not the time or place._

He wordlessly turned to grab the unconscious man and haul him out, being rougher than you had expected as the man’s head knocked into the door frame with a thud. You followed along behind him, trusting him to know what he was doing despite the adrenaline and the hormones that were rushing over you both like Naboo’s waterfalls. He navigated you carefully out of the speakeasy, until the two — _no, three—_ of you were back into the cool, muggy evening air of Corellia. You saw a guard had been dispatched by Din at the back door, and a M-68 Landspeeder that was presumably stolen was waiting for you. Din lifted the unconscious body into the back seat and allowed it to slump over before he was then reaching out to grab you, his hands planted tightly on your waist as he _lifted you up, as though your weight was nothing for him_ , and set you down into the passenger seat of the speeder before climbing in next to you.

The journey back to the ship was blessedly short compared to the initial journey into the city, thanks to Din’s questionable acquisition of a vehicle, but it was just as silent as the day’s earlier journey had been. You weren’t sure of what was going on in Din’s head, but you knew that you were aching to get back to the security of the ship and to be able to be alone with him. You felt excitement blooming within you as the Razor Crest came into your line of sight, but Din remained maddeningly silent.

He got the limp body securely sealed into carbonite with impressive speed, before picking your tense and wanting body up and out of the vehicle. Much to your surprise, he didn’t set you down on the ground, but rather carried you up the ramp and into the ship you both knew as home.

You could feel the adrenaline and desire pumping through your body as you felt Din’s strong arms wrapped around you, carrying you gently but with a force and determination that was a bit nerve-wracking. You were fairly certain that you could hear his heart hammering against the beskar chest plate that you were pressed against, and his gloved hands just barely dug into your skin, making your heart race in anticipation for what was undoubtedly about to come next.

The lights in the cabin of the ship had already been turned off, and your sense of anticipation heightened with the deprivation. _Din takes his helmet off in the dark._ He placed you down unexpectedly, your feet fighting to keep you upright, and that coupled with the darkness was momentarily disorienting. He stepped closer into you, his frame eclipsing yours as you were backed into the wall of the cabin and you could feel the steel paneling against the skin that your silver dress had left exposed. The cold steel coupled with the desire that was burning through you, radiating from your core, gave you an intense sensory overload that left your chest rising and falling rapidly as your breaths became more shallow, a soft whine arising from you.

Your hands reached out, grasping for any bit of Din that they could reach, and you somewhat forcefully dragged him into you, using his body to pin yourself against the wall of the ship. You heard a grunt come through the modulator and the fire inside you crawled up your chest as you told him in no uncertain terms to “Take that _off, right fucking now.”_

You heard the helmet drop to the floor not a second later, with no regard for its integrity — _but honestly, it was beskar, you’d be more worried about the integrity of the floor than the helmet_ — and the impulsiveness of the gesture only fueled the scorching fire that was running through your veins, setting every nerve ending alight. Finally having been freed from the restrictiveness of the helmet, Din growled your name under his breath as he leaned in to kiss you, echoing the fierce desperation with which he had kissed you in the speakeasy. His arms wrapped around you in a vice as his hands grabbed your ass, and he licked into your mouth, the heat and the taste of his tongue making you moan underneath him reflexively. You kissed him deeper, needing to be as close to him as possible — the cool beskar pressing into you made him feel even more domineering, powerful, but you resented its presence and the way it barricaded you from Din’s body.

_“Never_ doing that again _— not going on another job with me —“_ Din grunted, his words partially lost in the heavy, bruising kisses he was trailing up your neck. “Saw you— saw you _dancing,_ saw that motherfucker _pay —_ should’ve killed him —“

God, the possessiveness and the protectiveness was fucking _hot_. There was something within you that reveled in his intense desire to protect you and keep you to himself. Memories of the fresher came back to you, how he had called you his _good girl_ , and the prospect of hearing those words spoken into your soft skin again made you achingly wet for him. You sighed into him, your body melting underneath his touch as he kissed and harshly bit at the soft skin of your neck, loving the way his teeth felt scraping and sinking into you. It felt as though there was a storming, angry ocean of desire and desperation crashing into you ceaselessly, so overwhelming that you worried you might drown in it before Din would be able to give you what you needed.

You tangled your hands into the hair that you noticed was growing even longer, the curls feeling so real and so _human,_ despite the forced disconnect of armor and anonymity _._ “Din,” you sighed, tugging his curling hair gently, trying to pull him out of the smoldering anger he was experiencing, and back into this moment with you. You didn’t want to hear any more about the job, the club, any of it — you wanted to hear Din tell you that _you look so pretty taking his cock, you’re his good girl, your pussy feels better than anything in this galaxy._

“ _My_ girl,” he whispered roughly, digging his fingers into your exposed skin, the warm baritone of his unfiltered voice setting off butterflies — and for a moment you wondered if he could actually read your mind. 

You nodded in agreement — _you’re his girl, always —_ whimpering as one of his hands moved from your backside to roughly cup your breast; you felt the aged leather of the glove against your skin and realized he was all too clothed in comparison to your exposed form. Your dress had shifted to bunch around your waist as Din had pressed you into the wall, progressively revealing more and more of you to him. You reached out to grab his gloved hand, bringing it up from your chest and to your flushed face. He paused for a moment, waiting to see what you were doing; and then you brought his hand up to your soft mouth, gently biting down on his thumb and pulling the glove off with your teeth. The taste of gunpowder and leather lingered on your tongue, and there was some small piece of you that got a thrill from it.

It had been an experimental move, one that you weren’t sure how he would respond to, but the groan that echoed through him shot your adrenaline and confidence sky high, knowing that _you_ made that happen, knowing that _you_ were giving him what he wanted. And although he had you pinned against the wall, you still tried valiantly to remove some of the layers that separated you — _you needed to feel his skin against yours, needed to be able to kiss him all over, wanted to taste him, wanted to feel him in new ways._

He took your cue and backed up slightly, allowing your chest the room to expand with much-needed deep breaths as he rushed to pry the armor and equipment off of himself, each thud and clang of beskar on the floor sending stronger and stronger waves of heat through your body; _you wondered if this is what it was like to catch fire under the unforgiving suns of Tattooine._

You heard something soft and distinctly not-beskar land next to the two of you, and assumed that he was finally beginning to work his way out of his underclothes. You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his pants and yanked him back towards you forcefully, needing to feel the heat of his body pressed against yours. You could feel the defined muscles of his abdomen, the assorted scars that scattered his frame, the broad shoulders and thickly muscled arms; you kissed down his neck and to his chest, biting down harshly and then soothing the area with your tongue, loving the way that he writhed and moaned against you as he held you against himself. 

Your hand moved down from the wide expanse of his shoulders to palm at the rock hard erection that was unfortunately still barricaded by Din’s pants; and as you curled your fingers around his cock, Din growled and gathered the sheer fabric of your dress in his hands, pulling it down rapidly and aggressively, leaving you to try and extricate your arms from the delicate straps before he ripped it entirely off of your body. Eventually shimmying yourself free of the dress that had blessedly remained intact, you felt the pile of tulle and sequins fall to your feet. You kicked the garment away from you, a subtle hint to make Din distinctly aware of how exposed you now were. You pulled at the rough utility fabric that concealed the lower half of his body, that concealed his throbbing erection that you so desperately needed to feel within you — and Din stepped out of the clothing, the two of you breathing heavily at the amount of skin to skin contact you now shared; you wondered if he had ever been this bare, this exposed, with anyone before.

Although it was dark within the cabin of the ship, you knew each other’s bodies well, having spent several nights sleeping together, and your previous interactions during the shower having brought you closer than ever before. Your breath hitched in your throat as you had a sudden feeling of nervousness; you couldn’t understand why you were suddenly anxious, as this was something you had wanted for so long — but apparently you weren’t the only one with some nerves. Din’s breath shook as he pulled your body into his, whispering your name. “I don’t know that the bunk will be, ah... comfortable, or, you know, enough... space.”

That was a fair consideration, remembering how close you slept next to him; it wouldn’t offer enough space for anything other than sleeping.

An idea occurred to you; you leaned forward and kissed his shoulder, before you pulled away from his grasp, the chill of the cabin catching up with you as you crossed to retrieve the well-loved blankets from the bunk as you placed them onto the floor, creating a makeshift bed for the two of you. “Problem solved,” you whispered, grabbing his hand and guiding him onto the softened surface with suddenly confident steps.

He laughed gently, and you could feel a smile working its way to his face as you kissed him. He swung you up into his arms with ease, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he carefully brought both of your exposed and nude bodies down to the floor. You were acutely aware of how his muscles flexed and contracted as he held you closely, his sculpted and scarred body feeling incredible as it laid on the floor next to yours. Now, being able to effectively move and maneuver yourself around him, you were emboldened to try something you had never done before, feeling confident as your adventurous ideas had been well-received so far.

Your soft and gentle hands pressed Din’s wide shoulders down into the unyielding floor and he complied, willing to let you have the control right now. You positioned yourself over his body so that your head was pointing in the direction of his feet, while you propped yourself up above his impressive, large frame on your palms, the arch of your back offering him a perfect view of how wet you were for him, damn near dripping onto his chest. He groaned explicitly as you bent forward to take his cock into your mouth, and you could feel the tension moving through his body as you took him deeper into your throat, your tongue swirling around him and tasting every exquisite, velvety inch of him.

You were relieved when Din’s broad and calloused hands came up to rest firmly on your ass, understanding what you were needing from him, and he pulled your aching center down to his stubbled jawline, to allow his tongue to trace gently over your clit, finally offering you the pleasure and stimulation that you had been needing since Din had kissed you feverishly in the club. You felt your eyes roll back with a wash of pleasure and relief as he sucked gently on the bundle of nerves, flicking his tongue across it in rhythmic circles, occasionally allowing his tongue to explore further into your body and enjoy all of the wetness you offered him — and you hummed in satisfaction against his thick cock, as you moved your mouth up and down his length, enjoying the wet sounds sounds it produced as you continually swallowed around him, loving the deep grunts and animalistic groans you received in response. The humming must’ve added some enjoyable stimulation for him, as you tasted his precum on your tongue; and then he slid two fingers into your tight cunt, working to open you up to be able to take the considerable length of his cock. You loved the deliciously wet and sloppy sounds that came from the two of you; your mouth, as you continuously drug your tongue along the underside of the cock that was hitting the back of your throat, and your pussy as Din finger-fucked you on the floor of the ship.

He added a third finger to your tight entrance and you instinctively cried out at the stretching sensation, your body writhing as his thumb moved to tweak continuously over your clit with varying levels of pressure.

“Oh, _sweetheart,”_ Din sighed with a laugh. “If you think three fingers is a lot, you’re in for a surprise.” His voice sounded like gravel, rough and breathy and cracking beneath you, sending you higher and higher with his cocky assessment. _Well, you were never one to shy away from a challenge._

You could feel the weight of your orgasm building within you, the heady and hot tension that had coiled at your center spreading its way out to your stomach, your thighs, threatening to break at any moment. Your muscles constricting, you chased that peak, that high, and your mouth slid off of Din’s cock as you gasped for air — “Din, fuck, _Din, I’m gonna cu—“_

And then he quickly pulled himself away from you, right as you were _right there,_ and you cried out in exasperation and frustration at having been denied your orgasm; your entire body was screaming with anger and deprivation, and you felt as though you might shatter with all of the tension.

His body moved away from underneath you as you came to rest against the makeshift bed of blankets, and in the dark, you had absolutely _no_ idea what was going on or why he had done this to you. “Din, what the _fuck?”_ You hissed angrily, your hands reaching out to try and grab him and bring him back to you. But then you suddenly felt two strong, familiar hands grasp your waist from behind, and you were abruptly yanked upwards by your waist and onto your knees, the blankets ruched up underneath you; the disorientation of the darkness was intimidating but also incredibly exciting — although you were still somewhat pissed at Din for his asshole move.

You were on all fours, desperately waiting for Din to do something, _anything._

_“_ Look at my pretty girl, waiting so _nicely_ for me.”

You felt Din’s muscled thighs and his thick cock press up against your exposed backside; you were able to determine that he was on his knees behind you. You whined in anticipation, not minding the hint of desperation that crept in with it.

“Gods, _look_ at you. Fucking _dripping_ wet, making a mess for me. Is that all for me, sweet girl?” He hmmed confidently, dipping his finger inside of you and bringing your wetness up to his mouth for a taste. “Bet you’re just dying to take this cock, to cum on it for me, aren’t you?”

You whined once more, a small, needy sound that would’ve been embarrassing had you not been so desperately wanting to cum after your earlier denial; your muscles still quaked and tensed as you hovered right on that edge. You pressed your ass further back into him, trying to get some sort of stimulation against your aching cunt, but Din just cupped your ass and pressed your shoulders down into the floor; you felt the wool blanket against your cheek as you writhed against him in frustration.

“Please,” you whispered.

“Please... what?” There was a somewhat maniacal edge to his voice and you felt a thrill of anticipation shudder through you.

“Din, _please!”_

_“_ Please _what?”_ His voice cut through you like steel.

You could feel the blunt and swollen head of his cock pressed against your throbbing entrance, and fuck, while you didn’t _want_ to beg you couldn’t help it any longer, the unyielding desperation coursing hotly through you as you just gave in to what Din wanted. “Fuck, Din — please, _please_ fuck me, please let me cum for you —“

A satisfied chuckle coming from deep within his chest, Din finally pressed forward into you with a ragged, shaking moan — and the resulting moan that came from your body echoed his own, as he buried himself impossibly deep into your tight and soaking cunt, while effectively pinning your shoulders to the floor and rendering you immobile. You had thought you would be prepared for the sheer size of him, the girth, the length that you had taken in your mouth and throat, but it was unlike anything you had ever experienced before — _he really had been right in saying that three fingers wouldn’t compare_.

For a brief moment you wondered if you would even be _able_ to take all of him inside you — and your question was quickly answered as he pulled back from you, dragging his cock along your inner walls, before his hips snapped forward to slam into you with a shocking and devastatingly incredible force. Feeling his cock sink deeper and deeper into you, your body offered little resistance to this pleasure as you cried out at the stretching and filling sensation, hurting but in a _good_ way that just made you crave him even more.

Din’s hands found their place along the bend of your hips as he pushed and pulled your willing body into his; and with each thrust forward penetrating you even deeper, you felt the edges of your mind starting to go white-hot with pleasure once more. You reveled in the sounds he made, needy and wanting, loving that he wasn’t one to shy away from letting you know just how fucking incredible this felt for him, too.

This was unlike anything you had ever experienced with a man before, Din was unlike anything else in this galaxy, _and you knew that even if you spent a hundred years with him you would never get enough of this feeling_ — the feeling of his throbbing, veined cock dragging against your sensitive walls, hitting spots inside of you that you never even knew existed. You could feel the ever-increasing slickness of your cunt that allowed for him to slide in and out of you repeatedly, while the lower half of your body started to constrict with that same heat of pleasure that he had ripped away from you just moments ago — _but that didn’t matter anymore, you had no room for grudges as he completely filled both your body and mind._

He said your name over and over, the sound spilling from his lips _like_ _a_ _prayer, like a curse, like a promise —_ and you reveled in the sheer adoration of each utterance that tumbled from him. You wished that you could give him the same verbal adoration and praise that he offered you, but you were completely incapable of doing anything except making lewd, high-pitched, unintelligible sounds that echoed and radiated through the walls of the ship, becoming more desperate with each powerful thrust into your clenching and tight cunt.

“Gods, I knew you’d take my cock so f-fucking good, look at that — such a _pretty_ girl, such a _g-good_ girl — fucking knew you’d feel incredible from the m-moment I saw you, wanted to fucking split you in half on my cock —“

The praise and dirty words Din offered you tickled a previously-repressed, unexplored part of yourself and after this awakening you wanted _more_ of it. Seeking out that praise and reinforcement, you decided to take back some control in this situation and initiate something more — Din had you fairly well pinned against the floor, his hips ramming his cock into you relentlessly, but you were able to shift your arms in a way that allowed for you to reach around the back of your thighs and spread yourself open even further for him. Your movement caught him off guard as his hips snapped into yours forcefully, _his cock penetrating so far into you that you thought you may never recover from it_ — and the force of his thrust collapsed both of your bodies into the floor as a guttural _fuck_ escaped from him.

You felt his broad chest and the heaviness of his frame crushing you into the floor, but you didn’t mind, loving the pressure of his full body weight against you while his cock was buried inside you so deeply that you could feel him twitching inside of you, could feel each beat of his heart pulsating through his body.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” he gasped, pushing himself up off of your body and off of the floor. “I don’t know what the fuck you just did, but I’m going to need you to do that again for me.”

You grinned, somewhat delirious from all of the stimulation and physical sensations you had experienced here on this makeshift bed. And yet for all of the wonderful, amazing, beautiful things you had felt — you still hadn’t cum, and your very skin felt as though it was crawling with a fire that left you aching with every second that passed by. You wanted to cum, wanted Din to make you cum; and you wanted to make him cum in return, giving each other the release and bliss you had been wanting since your first meeting on Chandrila. If you were to tell the truth, you’d tell Din that you had wanted him from the very first day, even though you had fought so hard to quell those feelings.

You couldn’t see well in the darkness that shrouded the cabin — _couldn’t see anything, to be honest_ — but you could feel your hands connect with Din’s shoulders and you shoved him back down onto the floor, appreciating his willingness to follow your lead. Your hands traced gently down his body, feeling every hard line and ridge of him, feeling every scar, and loving every inch of him that he had allowed you to see, _at least in this way_. You swung your legs over his waist and positioned yourself above him, guiding his thick and still-wet cock back inside of your tight and enveloping cunt; the two of you gasped at the sudden, clenching contact and rush of adrenaline, and you began to ride him in earnest, loving the sound of your skin slapping against his as you crashed into him over and over and over again.

“Gods, you just love it when I ride your thick cock like this, don’t you, Din?” You said with a malicious grin, hoping to draw out the same kind of dirty words he had given you earlier. “Just falling apart for me so easy—“

“Fuck, yes, I do love it my sweet —“ He choked out, his hands finding their way up your body and coming to rest at your breasts, tweaking your hardened nipples with his rough touch. “Love watching that tight pussy take my cock, love how you feel on me, love how you taste — you’re just so fucking incredible—”

“Show me how much you love it,” you challenged, an edge creeping into your voice. “Cum for me.”

His groans turned into irregular grunts of pleasure as he moved to hold your body in place, restricting your movements as he fucked up into you, sounds spilling forth from him. “Believe me, I will cum for you — I’ll cum inside that sweet, perfect pussy. But you’re gonna cum for me _first_ , sweet girl.”

Din’s threat— or promise, depending on your perspective — echoed through you and a crashing tidal wave of need threatened to collapse your chest and inhibit your very breathing. Your body was positively aching with tension and strain now, your muscles screaming out in exhaustion — you needed to cum, you needed the release, you needed to fall over that peak and then rest next to Din. “Yes, please, please, please,” you cried, each word becoming more and more deranged and desperate than the last.

“Tell me what you need, sweet girl,” Din panted roughly, continuing to hold your shaking body in place as he fucked into you relentlessly.

You weren’t sure what you needed except _more_ of Din, and you didn’t even know how to ask for that as he was clearly giving you everything he had, thrusting up into you and offering up each and every groan of pleasure that your pussy wrung from him. _More. You just needed more._

_“Kiss me, Din Djarin.”_

He laughed softly and you could hear the smile in it; for all of the dirty words and debased, debauched actions, this sweetness was what you wanted and what you needed. He pulled your body in close to his, planting a soft kiss on your cheek before rolling the two of you over so you were now laying against the blankets. His cock never left your center, even in the transition; and then his hands brought your legs up to rest on his shoulders and he began drilling into you with an unholy force, crumpling your body in half with each thrust as he bent downwards to kiss you. He was panting and you could feel a bead of sweat drip from his forehead as he worked to get you there, fighting off his own orgasm, needing to get you there _first._

As his lips pressed repeatedly into your soft and hot flesh, you could feel it coming on; that tense and aching heat coiled within you, your back arched up from the floor, and your hands rose up to pull Din in closer to you, gripping his hair forcefully. You couldn’t see anything in the blackness of the ship but your vision was changing regardless, as your body readied itself to jump from that cliff, giving you the release you needed. “Din—“ you gasped out, your muscles constricting.

“Yes, yes, cum for me sweet girl — wanna feel you cum on my cock,” Din grunted, thrusting into you with each word. He leaned in to kiss you once more and it was everything you needed.

It felt as though a seismic charge went off inside the small ship, your muscles contracting and quaking as your body was taken over by wave after wave of undulating pleasure. Your skin felt like it was vibrating at a new frequency, each nerve ending heightened and feeling overstimulated as you cried out in unintelligible but unmistakeable pleasure. Your cunt clenched around Din’s cock, spasming with each new wave of pleasure that overtook your body.

Din snarled at the feeling of you clenching and coming undone around him and you knew that he was close; you drug your nails against his scalp, his hair tangling between your fingers, and you leaned up to gently capture his earlobe between your teeth, tugging slightly. “Want you to cum for me, Din. Want you to cum _inside_ _me_.”

The rapid movements of his hips became increasingly irregular until you felt the heat of his release within you, his body collapsing on top of yours as he inhaled deep and ragged breaths, you could feel him shaking on top of you, could feel his muscles and his cock twitching as he was lost to the overwhelming pleasure of his orgasm. Hot ropes of Din’s cum coursed through your pulsing and throbbing cunt, coating you and filling you in a way that made you writhe in pleasure and self-satisfaction; you couldn’t help but think of the way you’d be left dripping from him, a mix of both of your orgasms coating you in a messy, magnificent bliss. When he finally pulled away from your feverish and trembling body, you felt the mix of fluids cascading down your thighs in a way that almost made you want to climb on top of him _again_.

You were both left entirely breathless, every ounce of energy spent in giving the other what they needed and had been denied for so long. Din’s body rolled off of yours, allowing you to breathe deeply and you inhaled lungfuls of cool air, quieting the fire that coursed through your body. His chest taking deep and ragged breaths, he pulled you in close to his chest, his arms wrapping around you securely as he sighed and kissed every inch of exposed skin that he could reach. You were utterly wrecked, entirely devastated, and more blissfully happy than you ever could have imagined you could be.

This life was turning into everything that you had ever wanted, and feared you would never get. You felt tears of happiness pricking at the corner of your eyes, and you smiled into Din’s chest, never wanting to leave this moment.

He must’ve felt the tears that had slipped out and onto him; bringing your face up to his, his hand cradling your cheek gently, he kissed your forehead. “Sweet girl, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you whispered, a brilliant grin spreading across your face. “Everything is perfect. You’re perfect. This life here, with you, is perfect.”

You would later blame it on the rush of dopamine and oxytocin, but truth be told, you could no longer deny the truth to either yourself or to Din. Feeling emboldened and safe in this space with him, the truth tumbled forward from your lips, unable to be concealed any longer.

“I love you, Din Djarin.”

It felt beautiful and exhilarating to speak it out loud, to acknowledge the truth of your feelings. You didn’t even necessarily need for Din to say it back; that’s how secure you felt in this moment, in this feeling of love. You would love him endlessly, would love him through hell or high waters, would love him whether you were right next to him or lightyears away. You couldn’t hold back the truth, and nor did you want to. You loved Din Djarin, more than you had ever loved anything in existence, and while it was exhilaratingly terrifying, it also felt like the safest, most comforting thing in this galaxy.

Andit was a whole new kind of bliss that was revealed to you when he spoke to you in response.

“And I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connect with me on Tumblr at dirty-holy-things. 
> 
> Speeder referenced in chapter is the M-68 Landspeeder as seen in Solo: A Star Wars Story.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic, canon-typical descriptions of violence. References to past abuse. Please exercise caution when reading if this is a sensitive subject.

_"We fall in love because we long to escape from ourselves with someone ideal as we area corrupt. But what if such a being were one day to turn around and love us back? We can only be shocked. How could they be divine as we had hoped when they have the bad taste to approve of someone like us? If in order to love, we must believe that the beloved surpasses us in some way, does not a cruel paradox emerge when we witness this love returned? If they are really so wonderful, how could they love someone like me?" - Alain de Botton_

The universe felt brighter as you traveled through it now, suspended in space and time within the secure confines of your roaming home. You continued to watch the stars streak past you on every journey, still feeling just as entranced by them as you had on the first flight from Chandrila — but it was even more of a beautiful and brilliant thing, as you now had the incomparable comfort of being known, and being loved. For a brief moment, you had worried that your admission of love would make things complicated, awkward, unbalanced; but your fears had been completely dismissed and rendered unnecessary, as it had brought you and Din closer than you could have imagined.

It was the little gestures and moments throughout the day that allowed those fears to be quieted. His hands would brush along your body in passing; he brought you a blanket to the cockpit after seeing you wrapped tightly around yourself to fight off the chill; he would gently tuck away the stray pieces of hair that fell across your face. And you became less reserved in showing your affections as well; you would often drape yourself across the back of the pilot’s seat and over his expansive shoulders as he navigated the Razor Crest through the atmospheres of new planets and hyperspace. You would bring him food and water, reminding him to take care of himself in ways that he often forgot to. And the two of you spent more time encased in the security of darkness, to the point where you joked that you might develop night vision. Very few things can grow in the absence of light, and yet here you were, your love thriving in this unexpected place.

You found that you didn’t necessarily feel as though you were missing anything, by not being able to see his face. Your love felt whole, comprehensive, and possibly even _more_ valuable as it was so unconditional in its nature; you would love him endlessly, and you didn’t need a face to assign that love to, as he was so much more than the anatomical structure that existed behind the helmet. Somehow, the darkness felt more freeing than the light. The comfort and security of the darkness offered you both the opportunity to be completely and entirely exposed; no helmet, no clothing, no beskar, no self-doubt. It was infinite in its nature, and allowed for infinite possibilities.

_How beautiful, these little infinities you had created together._

And while you never held any regrets for the life you shared with Din, you understood that some things were not worth repeating. You didn’t offer to help with a job again after Corellia, and it was a decision that you had come to by yourself. Again, you held no regrets for what had transpired on the industrial planet as it had been the catalyst that had brought the truth to the surface, the truth about your love, but it had left some wreckage in the process. Your sense of self-preservation and fear had been reignited when the Twi’lek had made unwanted physical advances, and although you _knew_ you were safe now, it was challenging to quiet that instinctual part of yourself that had risen up, desperately seeking to sustain your hard-won survival.

Following the events of Corellia, you started to have the occasional nightmare, your mind resurfacing old wounds and memories that you had worked to let go of and leave on Chandrila. You would have dreams of the torrential thunderstorms of Eadu, threatening to drown you as your family watched, making no effort to help you stay afloat. You would feel the radiating pain of Orron’s blows throughout your body, every old wound somehow reemerging and aching anew. Sometimes the terror and pain of the nightmare was quick to pass upon waking, but there were some occasions in which you woke up crying and thrashing, a scream trapped in your constricted throat. Sometimes, you would wake up shaking like a leaf in a thunderstorm, chest heaving as the tears flowed; upon waking, you were always disoriented and scared for a moment, until you realized you were still at home and you were still wrapped securely in Din’s arms. You knew Din hated seeing you like that, tearful and distressed, and you didn’t want to cause any further hurt to yourself or to him. So you made the decision to no longer act as bait.

There was no sense in reopening old wounds, and creating new ones in the process. If you were to live with these pains, you could at least avoid inflicting them onto others. 

Din had been supportive of your choice to no longer participate in bounties. He had reassured you that he still believed in your capabilities and value as a companion, but agreed that the reduction in stress would be worth the reduction in payouts. It had been tough to find a way to keep yourself occupied and still feel like a valuable, contributing asset; you knew you would never be content to simply _exist_ here, offering nothing to Din except your body. While your originally agreed-upon partnership ended up not lending itself to you becoming a bounty hunter, you were not about to become a deadbeat, indolent passenger either.

The first few weeks after Corellia were alright, as you found odd jobs around the ship that you could tend to; repairing sagging panels, cleaning away the cobwebs, reorganizing equipment. These were tasks that you could manage, even with your limited mechanical and engineering knowledge. But eventually, as time wore on and your journeys carried you further along, you started to run out of tasks that could be done on the ship. Needing something to do, you then turned to managing additional business responsibilities, hoping to relieve Din of some of the stress that he carried on those broad shoulders. You kept a more organized, detailed record of his jobs and finances, and made sure there was an appropriate stock of supplies to support the Razor Crest’s three travelers.

And then there was the kid — you quite often found yourself managing _him_.

Following your journey to Bardotta, something had awoken in both you and Grogu; it was as if a creature that had laid dormant for many years had been awoken from its hibernation, and had returned with renewed strength. While you felt this change deeply within yourself, it presented itself most visibly in Grogu and his increasing abilities. You frequently had to search for him within the ship, as he had been working on learning how to cloak himself as you once had,adding this to his other skills. He was not able to fully vanish into his surroundings as you were, but he was decent enough at camouflaging himself to the point where you once had a panic attack that he had managed to escaped the ship into the wild forests of Dantooine while under your supervision. He was also experimenting with bringing larger and larger objects to his small green grasp, most noticeably larger and larger portions of food, or other comfort items like blankets. His growing curiosity and expansion of power hadn’t been _all_ that concerning until a particularly rough tantrum, during which he pushed both you and Din a good three feet back from him, without ever laying a hand on you. The changes occurring could no longer be denied or ignored, and you understood you would have to confront them at some point.

There had been changes within yourself as well, even though you struggled to admit it after having spent so much of your life suppressing that which was now showing itself within you. Your safety had always depended on your ability to mask your powers, or at least conveniently use them, and now they were unexpectedly breaking through your barriers. Through observation and meditation, you had started to put together that your abilities and powers swelled whenever your emotions did, just as they had when you were younger. When Din was once running behind schedule for a bounty, your nerves and fear alone were able to entirely warp the canteen you had purchased for yourself, crushing it to the point that it was unusable junk. And when Din finally returned home to you, bruised and battered, and yet focused only on touching and kissing every inch of you — you found that his cuts and bruises began to disappear from underneath your fingertips without any direct focus or attention. There was an undercurrent of power that was growing within you and Grogu, and it was beginning to breach the walls that you had put in place to hold it back; and you had no way of predicting _when_ that wall may cave in.

These ever-increasing powers and revelations were both fascinating and terrifying. You did not know what would happen from here if you and Grogu continued down this unmapped path. You could understand that power without training could be exceptionally dangerous, but how would you even go about learning how to control it all? You had once been able to suppress your connection to the Force, but you never actually learned how to master this connection _;_ repression is not true mastery or control, as it only _delays_ the chaos.

But who was there to learn from? The Jedi Order was no more, the grasp of the Sith had receded with the rise of the New Republic, and the civilizations that connected with the Force as a form of magic were incredibly closed-off and tight-lipped. You had been extraordinarily lucky to stumble unto the teachings of Ixxith as you had, but now that the seal had been broken, now that Pandora’s box had been opened, you were faced with an impossible question — _where do you go from here?_

Your best attempt at navigating this next step was to seek out knowledge in a different format; as Din’s travels occasionally brought you to larger cities, you would spend a portion of the layover browsing the city’s libraries and book stores, if they existed, poring over the texts to see if there was any history, legends, instructions, or insights that could be obtained. You had very little success at finding anything that taught you about Force powers and how to use them, however you had managed to find several interesting texts that chronicled the historical power struggle between the Jedi and the Sith. You had heard whispered stories and legends as a child, tales of heroes and villains who carried out the unending battle of good versus evil.

And as you read of these wars and conflicts, you came to an interesting conclusion — depending on the perspective of the available source material, both Jedi _and_ Sith could be considered good, or evil.

Thinking back to Ixxith’s teachings about the importance of balance, you could understand how these two diametrically opposed sides were continually fighting against the scale of the universe that sought balance. From your wide assortment of readings, you understood that the universe itself truly held no favor for good or evil, Jedi or Sith, and it only ever sought an equilibrium — and yet the universe’s occupants insisted on living within one extreme or the other, the scale never allowed to settle at a place of peace and balance.

You enjoyed studying the texts that you had managed to acquire, and learning more about the history of those with abilities like you, even though it may not have been the specific knowledge you had set out to find. Occasionally, you would talk with Din about the things that you discovered in these books, which prompted him to share more about the history of Mandalore and their role in the galaxy’s history and development. This newfound, strengthening point of connection between you was beautiful and valuable in its own right, even though it may not have offered much help for corralling yourself and the kid’s behaviors.

Reading had given you something to do during the down time while Din was working, and while the kid was self-contained or safely entertained. You had never had much time to dedicate to your own hobbies and interests before, and it was refreshing to be able to have your own passions that you could pursue as you desired.

Having few travel expenses of your own, you were still living quite comfortably off of the bounties you had profited from, and you were able to purchase the things that caught your eye or interest. This led to a steadily-expanding corner of the cabin that became yours as it was occupied with stacks of books, piles of blankets, an assortment of snacks, and a respectable wardrobe. The fresher also now showed evidence of your residency, as some of your specialty products had found their way to the shelves and the shower; silky lotions, a nice brush, hygiene products that didn’t exist in the shape of a bar. The Razor Crest was gradually becoming a shared space, a shared home, and were someone to step foot onto the ship, they would be able to determine that the fearsome Mandalorian was no longer maintaining a solitary existence.

This change in Din’s lifestyle was becoming more and more clear to outsiders as you now frequently accompanied him to his negotiations and trade-offs with Karga when on Nevarro. The older man had been excited by your reoccurring presence, and while he had teased Din for it in the beginning, he had since relaxed and always welcomed the two or three of you with a genuine smile. And with each visit to the volcanic planet, Din grew more comfortable with claiming your relationship openly; he almost always kept a hand on you, tracing pressured circles into your skin, or if you were seated with some degree of privacy, gently stroking the inside of your thigh from underneath the table as a tease for what was to come. There were rarely moments in which you were left alone, and you found you preferred it this way. While Orron had once insisted upon keeping you within arms reach, out of his own need for power and control, you understood Din’s motives to be different. He wanted to protect you, wanted to show you off, just genuinely wanted to be with you because he loved being with you. And you also knew that he would never deny you an opportunity to venture off on your own, to explore the town or take Grogu to play with the local children.

Today had been no exception to that truth; as Din and Karga haggled over upcoming bounties, you grew bored and restless, and decided you would prefer to stretch your legs with a walk around town, and feel some sunlight on your skin as it was a fairly nice day. You squeezed his knee gently, getting his attention before nodding your head to the door of the cantina, where the three of you had gathered for this business dealing. Din nodded wordlessly, trusting you to keep yourself safe and return to him when you were ready. This unconditional sense of trust was new to you, but you loved every moment of it, and loved Din for offering it so readily to you.

You excused yourself from the table and strolled out of the bar, knowing that Din’s eyes had followed your entire journey through the tables and patrons until you exited into the bustling town center. The sunlight felt nice on your skin, and the slight breeze kept the air from feeling heavy and stagnant around you; you stretched your limbs and you felt the cracking and popping of your joints. You needed breaks like this, to be able to physically stretch your body and keep it limber and in shape.

And yet, despite the small space of the Razor Crest, you had still found ways to keep your body moving; Din had _certainly_ made physical exercise more enjoyable. You thought back to all of the nights that had now been spent on the floor of the Razor Crest, as your exhausted bodies had collapsed into one another; you loved every minute of the physical exertion the two of you created, but your body needed more. It needed to run, jump, stretch, bend, without the constraints of the small cabin space. But Maker, did making love with Din feel like the most glorious and exhilarating use of your body; you marveled at every moment of passion the two of you shared, holding nothing back in the pursuit of giving the other what they desired.

You were brought back to the moment by an oddly dressed man bumping into you; you turned to apologize, as you had been the one to have stopped in the middle of the street, but they had already run off by the time you looked for them. Shrugging, you carried on with your afternoon expedition. You had intentionally chosen comfortable and lightweight clothing today, knowing it would offer a nice opportunity to stretch your legs. As you strolled through town, you felt yourself start to pick up your pace gradually until you were jogging along at a decent speed, leaving the town behind you as you ascended the black volcanic hills that surrounded the area that had since become familiar to you. From atop the hills, you could see the cantina, the school, the marketplace, and off in the distance you could see the Razor Crest as it was undergoing refueling and maintenance.

Continuing to run for a while, just along the outskirts of the city, you relished the feeling of the breeze against your skin; while Nevarro was hot and the air somewhat sulfurous due to the volcanoes, it was still a nice change from the recycled air of the ship, and was certainly better than some of the atmospheres of other planets you had journeyed to. You could feel the lava rocks and ash shifting beneath your feet as you ran, offering just enough resistance to make your heart race and your lungs expand with forceful, concentrated inhalations.

Having now circled about half of the city, watching the landscape change from your position above it, you settled down onto a spot that offered some dry grass to sit comfortably on. You waited for your heart rate to slow back to a resting pace, and stretched your limbs out around you, loving the bit of soreness that came along as your muscles stretched and contracted. You allowed yourself to rest here for a while, clearing your mind as you worked to let the Force flow through you, just as Ixxith had taught you. You could feel the Force moving through you gently, almost like a breeze passing through an open window. You settled into this feeling, into the peace that it offered, as silence and tranquility had become rare within the steel confines of your home. Relaxing, you only barely noticed the breeze that seemed to push and pull the air through your lungs, as you sank into the comfortable silence for a while.

Sensing a growing chill in the air, your eyes opened to scene around you. The sun had begun its descent behind the volcanic hilltops and you knew it was time to be on your way, to return to Din and Grogu, to your home and to your bed. Pushing yourself up from the ground, you brushed off the dust and debris that had pressed into your body and clothing, before starting a comfortable pace down the hillside and back into the city.

As you passed some of the houses that made up the outskirts of the city, you could sense that something, or _someone_ , was watching you; turning to look all around, you didn’t see anything unusual. You tried to shake off the feeling as you navigated yourself down a familiar city path, shifting your focus towards your upcoming reunion with Din; thinking of the way he had pinched the inside of your thigh earlier shot your heart rate right back up to its previously racing pace.

And yet there was a persistently _odd_ feeling around you though, one that you couldn’t seem to shake, even with the thought of Din. Deciding to trust your gut, you stepped down what seemed to be a quiet alleyway to take better stock of the situation around you and determine what was causing this unsettling feeling of observation. No, _observation_ wasn’t the right word. The word that came to mind was _stalked._ Like something was hiding in the shadows and corner of your vision, keeping in step with you but never being revealed. You scanned the street you had just been walking through, trying to find whatever was causing this unease, this growing sense of danger —

And then you felt a large hand grasping your forearm like a steel trap, crushing your wrist as _whoever this was_ pulled you further into the alley and into the seclusion that it offered.

Whirling around as your free hand having found its way into a fist, you intended to punch this unexpected attacker in the face; but before you could complete your movement, a grey and leathery hand grabbed your entire fist and wrenched it away, but maintaining a tight hold on your hand to restrain you. Looking up, you saw a terrifyingly familiar humanoid face.

Maxir Bragant had been a close companion and business partner of Orron Jakar, and you had spent more time around this Delphidian man than you ever cared to recall. He had been a frequent visitor to your shop, and the individuals who he dumped onto your cot for healing rarely survived due to his brutal and unyielding attacks. Being quite fond of cleaving into others with his axe, there was generally very little you could do to improve his victim’s odds of survival; you were no miracle worker, and you recalled how you had been beaten mercilessly for your failures. As you looked down to see that very same black axe strapped to his belt, you felt bile and fear rise up in your throat, not confident that you would be able to escape the crushing grasp of this towering man who now had both of your arms restrained.

His voice hissed out coldly, as his pitch-black eyes stared into yours with the same kind of fury and hatred that you had often seen echoed in Orron’s icy blue ones. “What a surprise to find you here,” he laughed, and the sound turned the very blood pumping through your veins to acid, to ice. He sneered at you, lips curling back to reveal the same ugly grin that showed up in your nightmares. “Figured you’d know better than to show up in a town like this. But, you were never a very bright one, were you?”

You bit your tongue, trying not to snap at that bait that he had flung out to you; you knew he wanted you to respond, wanted you to get mouthy, so he would have an excuse to _discipline_ you, just as Orron once had. He wanted an interesting fight — you knew that he thrived on crushing the life out of a terrified and desperate soul, and you were not going to give that to him. You needed to ignore his jabs, verbal and physical, and focus on how to get yourself out of this situation, how to alert Din, or the Marshal, or any bystander who could offer you some sort of reinforcement against what was surely about to be a horribly painful and ugly fight.

Bragant used his leverage to pull you in closely to him, and you could smell the putrid odor of sweat and blood that radiated from him. It was nauseating and made your head feel dizzy, but you couldn’t let this get to you, couldn’t let this throw you off. From this positioning, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to use your upper body to fight him off as he had your arms secured; making a quickly-calculated decision, you brought your knee up forcefully into his groin, and as he bent over in pain with a groan, he released one of your hands. _Gods, was it satisfying to see this motherfucker writhing._ Having some more leverage and momentum now, you kicked into his sternum forcefully, his massive body flying backwards into the stone wall behind him. You turned to run, willing your feet to move faster than the stars you had watched in hyperspace — but he recovered faster than you expected; you had only made it about four or five steps away when he wrapped his rough, scarred arm around your neck and brought your writhing, desperately fighting body up and into his, pressing his back into the wall to keep you out of sight.

“Stupid bitch,” he spit at you, and you could see the flecks of blood and saliva that landed in the dust around you, standing out in stark contrast to the dark volcanic ash. “Did you really think you’d get away with it, killing him?” You felt the cold and rough-hewn blade of his axe pressing into your chest, a jagged corner digging in just enough to make you gasp as it pierced your skin; the blade was pressed dangerously close to your heart, and you had seen the force with which he could swing his weapon.

“Still curious how the fuck you got out of there like you did, vanishing like that; but we’ll have plenty of time to ask questions when I bring you back home. There are a lot of people that have been missing you.”

You could sense the sick and cruel smile on his face as he pictured what would surely be a gruesome, horrific, and torturous death.

_No. No, you were not going to go out that way. Not on his terms, not on Orron’s. Not like this._

You thought about the horrors that would await you if Bragant was able to bring you back to the cartel. You thought about the sickening fear and sadness that Din and Grogu would feel at your unplanned and unexplained departure. Thought about how Din would cut his way through each and every formidable cartel member trying to bring you back to him, to bring you back to safety, to bring you back _home_. Thought about how one man wouldn’t be enough to fight off an army, thought about how Din would die trying to bring you back, just as you had nearly died bringing him back on Bardotta.

_Thought about how the love between the two of you would threaten to shatter the galaxy._

You thought about how Bragant had called the cartel _home,_ and the anger that coursed through you felt as though it was moving through your very bloodstream, each desperate beat of your heart pushing that anger further and further into your body, fueling your muscles and your strength until it was threatening to burst forward from you like a seismic charge.

“ _Home?”_ You screeched, the words tearing their way through your throat with vitriol.

“ _Home_?! You keep that word out of your _goddamn_ fucking mouth! _”_ You screamed forcefully, your voice echoing against the stone and clay walls; you heard a loud crack, and the wall that Bragant’s body was resting against collapsed in on itself.

This disruption and destruction caught Bragant by surprise, and he fell backwards into the pile of rubble that your anger alone had created, releasing you from his grasp in the process. Your chest was heaving as you inhaled deep lungfuls of air, feeling the oxygen feed more and more power to your body — you felt invincible, impossibly strong and powerful — and _vengeful._ Every violent revenge fantasy you had ever had came rushing back to you, as you saw the tidal wave of your abuser’s blood overtake the world around you.

_Here_ was a man who had contributed to your pain and destruction, who had killed countless people with no mercy — and now, you didn’t have a single ounce of mercy to extend to him. _And you were at peace with that._

A blinding hot, red wave of fury overtook your body, crashing around you and drowning out the fragile sense of humanity that was desperately clambering to stay afloat. It was as if you were possessed, as you watched your arm extend before you, muscles twitching beneath skin as your fingers pointed in Bragant’s direction, before your hand found itself curled into a tight fist. Your nails dug into the palm of your hand, and you could see redness dripping forth from it — and you saw Bragant’s writhing form being lifted from amongst the stones, until he was levitating in midair. His hands clawed desperately at his throat, and the sight of his now-bulging eyes filling with terror felt _beautiful._

With a final, overwhelming rush of immense power, your wrist pulled your hand inwards to your body and you heard a nauseatingly satisfying _crack_ reverberate through the alleyway as Bragant’s eyes went dark and his body went limp, collapsing onto the pile of rocks and clay beneath him with a dull _thump_.

Your head began to spin as the energy that had previously flowed through you was suddenly ripped away, and you felt as though every cell of your body was now collapsing in on itself in slow motion; the sky above you and the ground below you tumbled throughout your field of vision, spinning both together and apart as your body connected with the dusty floor of the alleyway.

You could vaguely see a blood red stain spreading in your field of vision. _Whose blood was it?_

Throughout all of the endless spinning and disorientation, your eyes eventually came to rest on _one_ comforting and familiar sight — a tall figure clad in beskar rushed to your side, but you couldn’t feel anything, couldn’t feel the hands that you knew were on your body, couldn’t feel the shift in your form as you were hauled into his arms. Couldn’t feel the heavy breaths and terrified words that spilled around you, as your head lolled to the side in his arms. It felt as though the link between your mind and body had been snapped, like a harp string tuned too tightly, and as the universe continued to tumble through your field of vision, you closed your eyes tightly and prayed for it all to _stop._

_Stop. Stop._

_Stop._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connect with me on Tumblr at dirty-holy-things.


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